


‘If You Think That You Won’t Fall’

by elesbells, Snowy38



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Bar dancing, Bartender Louis Tomlinson, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Breadsticks (Couldn’t resist that one Ang lol), Coming Out, Cowboy References, Coyote Ugly Movie Reference, Famous Harry Styles, Flaming Saddles, Gay Bar, Happy Ending, Karaoke, Light Angst, M/M, Met Gala Mentions, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Smut, Top Harry, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesbells/pseuds/elesbells, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: "Well, hel-lo stallion...""Um...I've not been here before, I'm more a nervous mare..."What happens when Rockstar Harry Styles decides to have a spontaneous night out, with a complete stranger, and ends up in a cowboy-themed Gay Bar?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So as soon as THAT picture of Harry and ‘Mike’ surfaced, Ang and I were drafting this story within minutes. It started off as a simple ‘Harry Styles walks into a bar’ situation, and became SO much more. This is my first full length fic, and I’m really proud of it, so I really hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I did writing it.
> 
> I could never ever have done this without my amazing Ang. Ang wrote the all important smut for starters lol, but honestly? Ang motivated me to be the driving force on this one, and gave me the confidence and support to finally get it finished! Ang shaped this into what it needed to be. She worked her incredible Ang magic, and threw around ideas, and we had SO much fun with this. I absolutely bloody adore you my amazing Ang. #tEAm. *Showers you in breadsticks*
> 
> It’s taken us a while to perfect this, but we really didn’t want to rush it. It ended up being much deeper in parts, than I could have ever anticipated, but I think that only adds to it.
> 
> A massive shoutout to all the fic writers of the Larrydom, you’re not just my escape, but my inspiration too, and I couldn’t have done this without you either. Thank you for you! 
> 
> Huge shout out to gucci_styles_edits on Instagram, who allowed me to take their amazing edit and make it into the edit for the epilogue! Also credit to: MissYouLouis, MelmanPur and Rainbows Stylinson on twitter for their manips used in the cover, and to Ang for her awesome bartender Louis manip, and those Flaming Saddles jumpers haha!
> 
> Shout out to my Kiwi Queen who wanted karaoke - enjoy beauts ;)
> 
> We tried to make this as realistic as possible, but we couldn’t help but have fun whilst doing so. We don’t know too much about Flaming Saddles so whereas we did our research, we just went with what fit the story, and what added to the fun! 
> 
> As per, please don’t share this with the boys or anyone associated with them. This is just for fun, and on that note (I won’t blame anyone for not reading this babblefest) enjoy! 
> 
> Eles xxx (And Ang!)

 

Despite being exhausted from an earlier, impromptu ‘meet and greet’ organised by his manager, Harry Styles wasn’t quite ready to go to bed.

He hadn’t long gotten back from seeing friends in Malibu where the fan event was held, but now he was questioning whether he should have stayed for a few more drinks after all. The night was still young, and well so was _he_ , but he didn’t have anyone to call to join him.

After sitting on his sofa sipping at a glass of water and contemplating what to do, he decided he’d just head out and go wherever the night took him. It wasn’t often he had an opportunity like this, so he decided to go with the flow and take it.

He rushed upstairs to take a quick shower and brush his teeth, his long day washed away with his previous fatigue. He sprayed on some deodorant after pulling on a pair of black jeans and then slipped on a simple black sheer shirt; only doing up the first few buttons. After sliding his rings back on, he dabbed on some of his Tom Ford cologne, and he was done.

Striding back into the living room, he grabbed his wallet, sliding it into his back pocket and zipped on a pair of simple black ankle boots. He grabbed his mobile phone off of the coffee table to call for a car to drop him into Hollywood, and then he’d have a wander and see where the night took him from there.

A thrilling kind of excitement laced his veins.

 

****

 

Harry welcomed the cool night breeze as it hit his exposed skin.

He was strolling down one of the mostly deserted sidewalks he'd asked the taxi to drop him at when he saw a young guy sat at a tram stop. His footsteps caused the young guy to look up, his eyes widening as he did so.  Now that Harry could see his face properly, he judged that he looked to be around his own age if not younger.

It was obvious that Harry had been recognised. He took a breath to calm his slightly overwhelmed reaction and looked around the quiet street. There was no one else around so he decided he didn’t mind being spotted and his spontaneous plan meant it was bound to happen at some point in the evening.

Luckily Harry didn’t buy into the celebrity scene despite being lucky enough to be a part of that world to make a living. But he completely understood why people sometimes acted around him the way that they did. The media kind of built him up that way but he was just ‘ _Harry’_ and wanted other people to see him that way too.

That’s what had caused him to walk out of his apartment with no plans, no friends and no security after all.

In the time he'd spent ruminating, the young guy had started to approach, so he slowed his footsteps until they came face to face.

“Hey. Sorry to like...bother you but um. _Shit_ , okay, I’m just gonna ask. Are you...Harry Styles?”

Harry’s lips slid into a smile, his dimples slicing into his cheeks.

“I am, yeah.”

“Wow man that’s... _wow_. I can’t believe this.” He babbled, clearly surprised. “ _Hey_.” He added, soft and breathless.

“Hi. I’m Harry.”

“Mike,” the young guy smiled, shaking Harry’s offered hand. Harry gave Mike's hand a squeeze before gently letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you Mike. So, I take it you’re waiting for the tram?”

Mike laughed in response and Harry felt himself relax knowing the ice had been broken between them.

“Yeah man, I am. I suppose you’re headed to some shit-hot party or something?”

Harry threw his head back in laughter, running a ring-cladded hand through his newly shortened brunette hair before returning his gaze to his new acquaintance.

“Nah, not tonight. I don’t know what I’m doing really. Just thought I’d have a wander and see where I ended up. Where are you heading? Anywhere fun?”

“That’s pretty cool you can do that, man. Hah! Yeah, you could say that. Heading to Saddles and meeting some guys there.” He nodded a little and shifted his feet.

“Saddles?” Harry queried curiously.

“Flaming Saddles, it’s in West Hollywood. Only a short trolley ride from here. You heard of it?” He wondered.

“Can’t say I have, but now I’m definitely intrigued...” Harry lifted a brow.

“You’ve seen ‘Coyote Ugly’ right?” Mike checked.

“I have...” Harry started to play with his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger, feeling more and more intrigued by the place that Mike was heading to.

“It’s like a Western-themed bar. It can get pretty wild in there but it’s a good night, man!” He enthused.

“Sounds like it.” He smiled. “So...do people dance on the bar?”

“The cowboys do, yeah.” Mike nodded.

“Cowboys?”

The look on Harry's face must have been amusing because Mike laughed and slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“I should just call you _Jersey_.”

Harry laughed at the reference and was about to speak when the gentle vibration of the approaching tram sounded. Mike glanced at him uncertainly.

“I mean...I know we just met, but you’ll be welcome to come and hang with me and the guys?” He offered.

Harry could feel his smile growing, his stomach swooping in excitement at just _how_ spontaneous his night was turning out to be.

Mirroring Mike's gesture, Harry wrapped his arm around Mike, following him back towards the tram stop, where the tram was just sliding up.

“Let’s go see some cowboys, Mike!”

 

****

 

“Man, I still can’t believe this. My friends won’t. Don’t suppose we could have a photo?” Mike ventured nervously as they made their way down the vehicle to select a quiet seat.

“Of course, babe.” Harry acquiesced easily.

He shrugged his shoulders and planted himself on Mike’s lap, much to Mike’s amusement, causing a subsequent bubble of laughter from them both.

Harry settled his arms around Mikes neck, cuddling close to him while Mike hugged him around the waist loosely, like he didn't want to overstep too much by giving him a squeeze.

Mike managed to take the picture with a big smile on his face, whilst Harry aimed for sultry to be silly, but ended up looking halfway to already drunk; despite being completely sober. He deliberately gave a little of his puppy-eyed look to counter his serious expression.

“Thanks, man.” Mike appreciated while he checked his pictures, looking up at Harry once he closed his photo gallery on his phone. “You’re fun!”

“Thanks. I think?” Harry checked, making sure that was a good thing in Mike's book.

“It was a compliment, Jersey. Oh, you’re cool with this being a gay bar, right?”

Harry smiled the secret kind of smile that only his Mum and his sister and maybe Jeff understood.

“Mike...that’s absolutely _perfect_.” He assured.

 

*****

 

Harry had an _idea_ of what to expect, but his expectations were still blown away as he walked into what _literally_ felt like the _actual_ bar in the film _Coyote Ugly_.

He had met Mike’s friends, but then politely left them to it to have a look around and grab a drink, promising to come back to them later. Mike was lovely, but he’d known him all of twenty minutes and he didn’t want to impose on his night.

Besides, it felt quite thrilling mooching around alone with no-one there asking him for a picture or widening their eyes at the sight of him. If anyone _did_ recognise him, they seemed to be keeping it to themselves and he liked the anonymity of it all.

He wandered up to what looked like a makeshift stage, a few good-looking men dressed as cowboys dancing away and stomping their feet. They were wearing skin-tight jeans with cowboy boots and cowboy hats and _not much else_.

Harry smirked to himself and swallowed down the wisps of instant attraction, making his way over to the bar area to cool down. The place was pretty packed so he remained patient while waiting his turn to be served, just enjoying the atmosphere of a place he wouldn’t have gotten to visit without his chance meeting with Mike at the tram stop.

The wooden floorboards vibrated underneath his boot-clad feet; the venue packed to the brim with animated people. Some were laughing and chatting whilst drinking, others were dancing and singing to the country rock blaring out of the speakers. The atmosphere felt electric and it felt like the place was on fire, everyone around him obviously having a great time.

"Well, hel-lo _stallion_..."

Harry whipped around to face the bar from his perusal of the room, his stomach flipping as a flirtatious and bright Yorkshire accent rang all around him. Suddenly his courage left him.

"Um...I've not been here before, I'm more a nervous mare..." He admitted.

“No worries, handsome. I'm a stable hand, I'll rub you down gently, don't you worry..."

Harry cackled with laughter as the gorgeous blue-eyed barman winked at him, his thin pink lips sliding into a blinding smile that made Harry’s insides dance with butterflies.

“Is this how you talk to all of the boys?” He asked.

“Nah, only you, _Harry Styles_.” He smirked.

“You...know who I am?” His brows furrowed and his chest tightened with the inevitable reality of his identity being _known._

“Oh, sorry are you supposed to be incognito? That’s what all the black is for. _Shit,_ I should’ve known that!” Louis tutted to himself, wiping down a wet spot on the bar in front of Harry.

“You’re funny...” He couldn’t help the small smile that tucked into the corners of his mouth.

The brunette shrugged and threw Harry another wink.

“I try mate, I try. So, what’s your poison?”

“Hmm that depends...” Harry teased.

“On?”

"When's it your turn to dance on the bar?" Harry smiled.

"Never. I'm not you know... built enough."

Harry stared incredulously at the beautiful barman and blurted out the first thing that entered his head.

"How about if I pay to make it happen?"

He regretted it as soon as the two blue eyes in front of him flared in shock.

“Woah! Down boy!”

“ _Shit_! Sorry I... _fuck_. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright mate. No harm done, yeah?” The guy considered him carefully as Harry’s face creased painfully. “And for the fact you just proper embarrassed yourself, I’ll give you your first drink on the house...”

“Heeeey! It’s my first time here, you know. I was told you all danced on the bar. They did in Coyote Ugly!”

“Yeah, mate. This isn’t...fucking hell you’re something else. I’m gonna call you _Jersey_.” The guy teased.

“That’s the second time I’ve been called that tonight...” Harry quirked his brows.

“Yeah I can see why. Come on then, rock-star, what are you drinking? You’re holding up the queue...”

“Oh! Shit! Sorry! Just, get everyone a drink on me yeah?” Harry decided.

“Are you shitting me, Jersey?” Blue eyes narrowed to assess him critically.

“No?” Harry pouted.

“K, I tell you what. _You_.” He pointed to his chest. “Wait there whilst I serve these people. You can decide what you’re drinking, on the house...and then I’ll be back.”

“Right...Okay...” Harry nodded along with his proposal, startling slightly as he proceeded to lift a megaphone off the back of the bar, static screeching into the noisy atmosphere.

“FREE SHOTS! COURTESY OF MY MATE JERSEY!” He announced.

“Who’s Jersey, barkeep?!” A voice yelled back.

The handsome devil of a barman giggled before answering the patron in the eager crowd that had gathered around the bar area.

“It’s none of your business, but I wouldn’t mind having his baby!”

Harry choked on air, coughed and thumped his chest and then ran a hand through his hair, scrunching it and shaking it out. The nameless but gorgeous server threw Harry a mischievous grin, his blue eyes glinting underneath long eyelashes. It was then that Harry knew he was in trouble.

The lyrics of the song the barman had quoted came rushing into his head. He might be in trouble, but he was _kinda into it_.

 

******

“OI! Jersey!”

The barman probably had the loudest voice Harry had heard.

“You know. You haven’t told me your name.” Harry pointed out.

“You never asked for it.” Blue eyes sparkled back at him in amusement.

“Can I? _Ask for it_?” His voice was deliberately deep and smooth.

“Louis. M’name’s Louis.” He offered.

“Harry.” He extended his hand and Louis took it, his hand smaller in comparison to Harry’s, yet still a snug and perfect fit.

“So...what’s Harry Styles doing in a place like this?” Louis wondered aloud.

“It’s _just_ Harry.”

Louis’ smile faltered at Harry’s slightly clipped tone.

“Hey, you know it’s just a bit of bants, yeah...” Louis frowned at him worriedly.

“Yeah, sorry. Long day,” he sighed.

“Right, well, let’s get you a drink. Thanks for earlier by the way. Fuck, that was mental. Can’t believe you did that.”

Harry shrugged, his earlier smile sliding back onto his lips.

“It was the least I could do.”

“You’re too pretty for your own good.” Louis accused.

“Not as pretty as you are...” Harry batted back easily.

“Fucking hell, mate. You sure you’re straight?”

“What do _you_ think?” Harry lifted a brow.

“I think I need a fucking drink and you do too.” Louis decided.

 

*******

 

Harry hadn’t planned on chatting to Louis all night, it just kind of _happened_.

He wasn’t regretting any of it, but he was regretting his next move, one that could only be blamed on the very strong cocktails he had been getting through since he more or less outed himself to a complete stranger.

 Louis didn’t _exactly_ feel like a stranger to him, though. Sure, the British connection helped. Doncaster, _where he learnt Louis was originally from_ , wasn’t too far from his hometown of Holmes Chapel and he felt himself wondering why the two of them hadn’t yet met and where this bright beautiful boy, _made of lightning_ ; had been his whole life.

 _That_ was why Harry didn’t drink a lot.

He was a complete and utter lightweight, and now he was asking himself where Louis had been his _whole life_ , after knowing him for a few _hours_ (give or take).

His drunken; and rather silly thoughts were interrupted when his name was called, and it took a moment or two to remember _why_ his name was being called.

 _Fuck_. His heart kicked up a panicked rhythm.

 _Karaoke_.

“JERSEY! YOU’RE UP!” A second, very loud reminder split his eardrums.

 _Shit, shit, shit. Why_ had he signed his name for karaoke?!

Louis’ giggle tinkled around Harry like bells and his stomach felt like it had given birth to a butterfly garden. He thought he might have spoken his thoughts aloud based on Louis' amusement-crinkled eyes.

Two seconds later the realisation hit him that he hadn't, in fact, signed _himself_ up for singing but that _Louis_ had, just to spite him, apparently.

“I hate you.” He muttered.

“Nah. You’re gonna love every fucking minute of this and you know it. Giddy up!”

“You wish.”

“Mmm, maybe I do.” Louis winked.

“Wanker...”

Harry took one last sip of the fruity concoction he’d been drinking, deliberately making eye-contact with Louis as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked on the bright pink straw.

Louis’ eyes widened and turned a darker blue as Harry licked his lips; a smirk twitching at them as he swayed his hips and strolled up to the stage to grab his mic.

As soon as the opening chords of the song struck, the crowd hollered and whooped and Harry felt more and more grateful for the alcohol swimming around his system, giving him confidence where he felt awkward and embarrassed to be showing off in front of this _particular_ crowd. _The one he had only earlier been thankful to hide amongst, unknown_. Clearing his throat away from the microphone, he took a deep breath and began to sing.

“#Under a lovers' sky

Gonna be with you

And no one's gonna be around

If you think that you won't fall

Well just wait until

Til the sun goes down...”

Louis could feel his heart pounding, genuinely concerned it was about to beat right out of his chest. Tonight, he had expected to come into work as usual, serve the eager crowd and go back home to sleep. And that was exactly how it was going, until Harry _fucking_ Styles strolled into his bar, looking like something out of his wet dreams.

It wasn't that he was a huge fan. He _wasn_ _’t_.  But he knew who Harry was, he’d heard his songs, and he’d be lying if he said that ‘ _Kiwi_ ’ and ‘ _Sign of the Times_ ’ weren’t played regularly on his Spotify. But that was _it_.

He had eyes, and _yeah_ Harry was fit. _Alright, maybe that would be putting it lightly_. Harry was fucking _beautiful_. Painstakingly more so in person. And _this_ , this was bad. This was _so_ bad. His idea to haul him up on stage to sing? Felt funny at the time, was more of a test to see if the rock-star could drop his ego long enough to join in some drunken wailing.

Louis maybe hadn’t _actually_ expected him to do it. Harry sounded incredible. And Louis...? He... _He was in trouble_.

“#You can try to resist

Try to hide from my kiss

But you know

But you know that you can't fight the moonlight

Deep in the dark

You'll surrender your heart

But you know

But you know that you can't fight the moonlight

No, you can't fight it

It's gonna get to your heart. #"

He watched in pure awe as Harry strolled across the makeshift stage, swaying his hips and singing his heart out. His voice was smooth and strong with a natural rasp that seemed to cause something in Louis' tummy to clench. He truly _was_ every inch the rock-star, yet he found himself smiling as Harry giggled his way through the entire second verse, the cocktail consumption definitely setting in.

They’d been flirting. The both of them. Sure, Louis flirted with _everyone_ , it was a part of his job. But something between him and Harry just felt... _different_. It felt inexplicably familiar and _comfortable._

He ran his fingers through his fringe that was now a little too sweaty for his liking and shook out his red vest. It was so hot in there tonight and he was unusually self-conscious of his sweat-soaked state.

“#No, you can't fight it

No matter what you do

The night is gonna get to you#"

 _Why was he even thinking about Harry?_ In _that_ way? It was crazy. They barely knew each other. They’d only been chatting for a few hours. _In between him serving eager customers of course_. Harry had happily grabbed a stool and settled just at the side of the bar making sure he was out of everyone’s way, not wanting to hold the queue up as he’d unintentionally done earlier.

After Louis had taken Harry’s credit card, scanning it through the till to pay for the crazy amount of ‘free shots’ Harry had offered to cover, Louis had made Harry a cocktail especially for him and they had just started chatting. The flirtation was seeping into their every word still from their first encounter along with a brilliant amount of banter but there was something that Louis couldn’t explain. They just completely ‘clicked’. As a barman he had to keep a happy face on no matter who he was speaking to but with Harry, it didn’t feel much like work.

“#Don't try,

Oh, you're never gonna win ohh#"

Louis snapped out of his Harry induced daze at the sound of Harry's drawn-out note, mentally punching himself for the ridiculous amount of fantasy tumbling into his mind. He knew better than to let a pretty boy convince him that love at first sight existed.

“#Underneath the starlight, starlight

There's a magical feeling, so right

It will steal your heart tonight...#"

Louis nearly dropped the bottle he was holding, the liquor forming a generous puddle on the bar as it missed the shot glass he was aiming for, completely. _Fuck._

“#You can tryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy#"

 

“Shit! Sorry mate! On the house!” Louis quickly mopped up the spill, passing a properly filled shot over the bar top.

The customer flickered his eyes between Louis and Harry on the karaoke stage, chuckling to himself as he walked off.

Harry had slid down onto his knees, the crowd that had formed around him quite literally losing their shit as he belted out the last chorus, like the seasoned rock-star he was. The stretch of Harry’s jeans over his thighs and _other areas_ had Louis far more affected than he should have been. Guys walked about his club practically naked and he didn’t have an issue controlling himself around _them._ But Louis could feel his jeans getting noticeably tighter as he watched a certain singer arch his back and shake out his short hair so he reached down, biting his lip and subtly giving himself a squeeze, willing his interested dick to _stop_ getting so excited over literally _nothing_.

“ _Fuck_!” He whispered, exasperated.

Harry’s shirt, that hadn’t exactly been done up in the first place was now gaping open, his nipples and tattooed skin on full display, a sheen of sweat dusting his skin like crushed diamonds.

“#Noooooooo, you can’t fight it

It’s gonna get to your heart...#"

 

“Give it up for _Jersey_!” His colleague Eric had taken over the microphone _thank Christ._

Louis watched as Harry rose clumsily from his knees, stumbling slightly on the microphone chord, and nearly taking down Eric, their resident karaoke king ( _or should that be queen?_ Louis mused to himself with a quiet giggle).

Harry had definitely gained more attention than he was maybe intending to by now. Louis watched as phones flashed away, Harry posing for selfies and group pictures, high-fiving people and accepting hugs from them as he tried to make his way back to the bar. Louis tried to shake away the fondness that was now painted as clear as day on his face, his cheeks warming, as he ducked his head and cleared his throat.

“That was siiiiiiiick!” Harry plopped back onto his favourite stool, kept free by Louis while he was on stage.

“Welcome back, Jersey.”

“Thanks. Enjoy the show?”

Harry threw Louis a wink, a signature smirk resting upon his lips before he leant forward and took the now bright yellow straw into his mouth, tongue first, humming low in his throat as the new glass of cocktail tingled on his taste buds and slid down his throat.

“ _Still_ enjoying the show...” Louis murmured.

“Thanks for this. I needed it.” Harry smiled lazily.

“Think you pretty much earned it. Great voice, love. You should really think of doing something with that...”

“Piss off.” Harry giggled, feeling his cheeks blush. “Sooo...” He licked his lips; tongue numb with alcohol.

“What now, Jersey?” Louis asked drily.

“When you gonna dance on the bar?” He smiled patiently.

“I already told you...not built for that. I leave that to the cowboys...besides, I don’t have a hat...or the right footwear...”

“Hmmm, yeah, we should do something about that. Be right back.” Harry had slipped off the stool before Louis could stop him.

 

******

 

Harry returned to the bar a good twenty minutes later. Louis was beginning to think he had left altogether and didn’t like the way his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of it.

This time Harry wasn’t alone. Louis felt a flicker of jealousy sweep over himself upon registering Harry’s arm slung around a young man's shoulders, the young man mirroring Harry’s gesture.

“Louis, this is Mike, he's the reason I’m even here. Mike, this is Louis, the fit guy who we’re about to witness dancing on the bar.”

“The fuck we are!” Louis spluttered.

“Now, now Louuuuuisssss, play nice.” Harry pouted.

“Hey man. We got you a hat and boots,” Mike offered with a sweet smile.

Louis eyed the white cowboy hat dangling from Mike's finger and the pair of brown cowboy boots clutched to Harry’s chest with the arm that wasn’t around Mike.

“I see them...what about it?”

Louis felt himself relax as Harry’s arm slid away from Mike’s shoulders, and another guy arrived at Mike’s side, kissing his cheek and sliding an arm around his waist. He watched as Mike leaned into the blonde man and knew he had been irrational. _He didn_ _’_ _t have to worry about Harry going home with anyone else_. Not that Harry was going home with _him_. _Fuck!_ What was _with_ his brain tonight?!

“Jersey here said you’re gonna dance...” Mike answered his question with a knowing look.

“Hmm, you know I would Mike, mate, but I can’t dance without a partner so...” Louis shrugged and made an apologetic face.

“I volunteer as tribute!” Came an instant voice that startled Louis.

Harry giggled and Louis decided that there would be no further cocktails supplied to him, only water.

“Wow, Jersey, you’re keen...” He mused.

“Do you blame me?” Harry grinned.

“You walked straight into that one, man,” Mike laughed, the blonde man cuddled into him chuckling along.

“I don’t think there’s anything straight about Louis.” Harry offered seriously. “Or about you Mike, or your....shit I forgot your name...” He winced.

“Mark...it’s cool, dude...”

“Yeah, sooo, there’s nothing straight, about any of u—”

Louis leaned forward and gently clamped a hand over Harry’s mouth. Harry wasn’t exactly being subtle, but he knew he wasn’t out either, and any assumptions that had been made were better left as just that rather than Harry unintentionally outing himself. These guys seemed nice enough, but it was obvious Harry had only just met them that night, and it was better to be safe than sorry in Louis' experience.

If Harry wanted them to know about his private life, then he could tell them when he was sober.

“Okay Jersey, that’s enough out of you.” He pulled his hand away from Harry’s mouth. “Fuck, okay, let’s do this...” He sighed, accepting the inevitable and snatching the cowboy boots to pull them on.

“Yee-ha!” Harry pumped his fist in the air and attempted to climb up onto the bar stomach first, Mike and Mark helping him up by grabbing a leg each. Once Harry had maneuvered himself up onto his knees, he looked up, beaming a smile at Louis who was now stood up on the bar and offering both of his hands to pull Harry up with him.

Harry's messy hair and bright eyes had _nothing to_ do with the squiggling in his gut.  _Yeah, right._

“Steady...” Louis warned him with a gentle voice, more concerned than impatient.

They dropped hands once he was on his feet and Harry instantly missed the warmth of Louis’.

“Fuck, it’s high innit...” Harry mumbled.

“What were you expecting, handsome?”

“Can’t believe I did karaoke and now I’m doing this...fuck it’s high...”

Louis stepped forward, gently resting his hands-on Harry’s shoulders, the sheer material of his shirt feeling like it had been set alight underneath Louis’ fingertips from the heat of Harry's skin.

“You know you don’t have to do this, yeah? It’s just a bit of fun. I’m gonna fucking do it ‘cause well, guess it’s only fair, but you can sit this one out, babe...”

Harry stared into his eyes, the green a little hazy as he swayed slightly on the bar top. Louis wondered if he might actually clamber back down.

“Fuck it, I’m up here now.” He decided. “What are we dancing to? You know I’m a shit dancer, right?”

“I mean I _didn_ _’t_ , but cheers for the heads up. Just follow my lead and be careful. Don’t think even our insurance can afford you to be honest...”

“You’re such a little shit, you know that?” Harry narrowed his eyes at him accusingly.

Louis just winked at him and then looked over to Eric to nod some kind of secret message to him and the next thing Harry knew, the entire bar vibrated as Louis stamped his boot-clad foot down and shouted out alongside the opening lines of the song now playing loudly into the bar.

“Let’s go girls!”

Before Harry could breathe another word, Louis was placing the cowboy hat firmly on Harry’s curly head and throwing him a dry kiss.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, Jersey...”

#I'm going out tonight, I'm feelin' alright

Gonna let it all hang out

Wanna make some noise, really raise my voice

Yeah, I wanna scream and shout! #

The crowd cheered and sang along enthusiastically to the well-known country anthem, and Harry felt his smile practically melting through his face, his dimples caving into his aching cheeks as he laughed and giggled.

Louis took his hands, suggestively swaying his hips, and stamping his feet in rhythm, whilst belting out every word to the song. Harry eventually joined in once his laughter dried up and he clumsily focused on copying Louis' steps. His green eyes drowned in the beautiful blue of Louis’, and he could feel his stomach dipping in a continuous loop-de-loop as he got lost in his beaming smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners and never leaving his own.

_#No inhibitions, make no conditions_

_Get a little outta line_

_I ain't gonna act politically correct_

_I only wanna have a good time! #_

Louis’ eyes left Harry’s as his fellow colleagues jumped up and joined them on the bar. Harry was now sandwiched in between two scantily clad cowboys, who also happened to be his mates Niall and Liam. Louis howled with laughter as all three boys grinded exaggeratedly against each other, Harry absolutely cracking up with laughter whilst attempting to be seductive and sultry.

_#The best thing about being a woman_

_Is the prerogative to have a little fun and_

_Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy, forget I'm a lady_

_Men's shirts, short skirts_

_Oh, oh, oh, really go wild yeah, doin' it in style_

_Oh, oh, oh, get in the action, feel the attraction_

_Colour my hair, do what I dare_

_Oh, oh, oh, I want to be free yeah, to feel the way I feel_

_Man! I feel like a woman! #_

When Louis looked up to find the threesome busy competing over body rolls, holding onto each other’s hips as they did so, he decided to freestyle on his own and showcased his fancy footwork from the line-dancing lessons he'd taken before opening the club.

 The crowd went absolutely _wild_.

Grinning to himself, he repeated the most complex part of the routine to impress the crowd, twisting to face the other boys to instigate a makeshift dance-off. Louis did a full body roll, sliding his hands down his body and catching the eye of his colleague and friend Shawn who was now manning the other side of the bar. Shawn smiled back at Louis knowing exactly what he wanted with the nod of his head he had given him.

Louis braved himself for the impact and then relished the way the cold water felt against his heated and sweat-sheened skin, as Shawn sprayed him full pelt with the water hose. He laughed joyously as the spray pelted off his clothed skin in wet sparks.

 

_#The girls need a break-tonight we're gonna take_

_The chance to get out on the town_

_We don't need romance, we only want to dance_

_We're gonna let our hair hang down#_

 

Louis shook his head from side to side to flick off the excess wetness and then slicked back his water-soaked hair, trying to appear as sexy and sultry as he could manage without laughing. He rolled his hips, sliding around in a circle whilst doing so, shaking his bum at his friends and Harry. His vest was absolutely soaked through and sticking to his skin, and he could hear the crowd chanting “TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!’ over the music blasting out all around them. Completely throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Louis grabbed the sopping wet hem of his vest and flung it off and into the crowd.

 

_#Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy, forget I'm a lady_

_Men's shirts, short skirts_

_Oh, oh, oh, really go wild-yeah, doin' it in style_

_Oh, oh, oh, get in the action, feel the attraction_

_Colour my hair, do what I dare_

_Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free yeah, to feel the way I feel_

_Man! I feel like a woman! #_

 

Harry’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets taking in the sight before him. Louis was now _wet_ , shirtless, and dancing like his life absolutely depended on it. Harry’s night had been a complete whirlwind and Louis was the hurricane behind it. He’d never met anyone like Louis before. Someone who knew who he was but was far from affected by it. Sure, he’d dated, he’d had one night stands even, but Louis was different. Harry wanted to date him. He wanted to have a million one-night-stands with him, he just wanted to know him, truly _know_ him.

He was electric, he was on fire, and Harry could feel himself being burnt by his flames as the night went on. He didn’t want the night to end and he felt like he was a cliché trapped in one of the many rom-coms he enjoyed snuggling up on his sofa to watch but he didn’t _care._ He _wanted_ to be a cliché. He wanted to be a cliché with L—

Cold liquid splattered him right in the face; complete and utter horror sinking in as the jet lowered to his chest and he could deduce that the guy behind the bar had thrown the water hose to Louis, and _he_ was the new target. His sheer shirt quickly became completely see-through and the flimsy fabric stuck to him like a second skin. Louis’ laugh tinkled like bells as he aimed the water hose lower again, straight at Harry’s crotch, soaking the front of jeans.

“Looks like you’ve had a little accident there, Jersey!”

“You absolute wanker!” Harry yelled back, belatedly trying to guard himself with his hands.

 

_#The best thing about being a woman_

_Is the prerogative to have a little fun and_

_Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy, forget I'm a lady_

_Men's shirts, short skirts_

_Oh, oh, oh, really go wild yeah, doin' it in style_

_Oh, oh, oh, get in the action, feel the attraction_

_Colour my hair, do what I dare_

_Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free yeah, to feel the way I feel_

_Man! I feel like a woman! #_

Louis threw the hose back to Shawn behind the bar and jumped down. Harry could feel the disappointment welling up inside him as he watched Louis towel himself off and slip on a clean red vest, identical to his other one. He pulled the cowboy boots off of his feet.

 The two scantily-clad cowboys who had introduced themselves as Niall and Liam mid-grind, were still dancing on the bar either side of him, but Harry only had eyes for Louis, who, when he checked on him again, was doubled over in laughter at the fact that Harry was still trapped up on the bar while he had escaped to dry off.

Harry’s previous sinking feeling lifted with the brightness of Louis' laughing mouth to revive his spirits. He began to sing along.

 

_#The best thing about being a woman_

_Is the prerogative to have a little fun and...#_

 

Harry shrugged, unbuttoned the rest of his soaked shirt and threw it at Louis, whose laughter halted as the soaked shirt hit him in the face. It was Harry’s turn to double over in laughter, however he forgot he was currently standing on a bar and as he stepped forward mid chuckle, _that_ _’s_ when he felt it...The heel of his boot slid in a puddle of water, and then he lost his balance and was flailing his arms as he spiraled towards the floor.

Squeezing his eyes shut to brace himself for the impact; his naked torso smacked into something _hard_ , which _wasn_ _’t_ floorboards of the club. And then he realised his breath was being squeezed out of his lungs by strong arms which had secured themselves around his waist, saving his body from a heavy fall but stealing his air supply all the same. The feeling of being _rescued_ had goosebumps raising inexplicably on his exposed skin.

“Oh,” he half murmured, half coughed.

“Shit Harry! You scared the—!”

He could feel them both wobbling about as Louis tried to keep them upright, and just as Harry thought he’d had a near miss, his ankle rolled over as he lowered his foot back down and a searing pain shot through the joint, causing him to shout out in agony; cutting off the last words of Louis’ sentence.

 

*****

 

The car journey to the hospital was awkward to say the least. Not even the alcohol running through Harry’s veins could drown out the pain spiking through his foot and ankle, and he was sobering up with every minute that passed.

“ _For fuck’s sake!_ ”

Harry jolted in his seat at Louis’ outburst. Louis’ shoulders were tense, as was the rest of him. He was biting his nails and staring straight ahead at the small cluster of traffic in front of them. Harry reached out his hand to place on Louis’ thigh to soothe him, but then hesitated and thought better of it. They were still practically strangers and he wished with everything in him that he could go back to what was shaping up to be, one of the best nights out he’d _ever_ had. He cleared his throat, his voice still a little hoarse from karaoke and the general shouting and singing that followed that.

“It’s okay Louis...we’ll get there when we... _ouch, shit_...sorry...get there...”

“Yeah. See that whole ‘ _ouch, shit_ ’ part doesn’t give me much confidence. Fuck, I can’t believe this has happened! For fuck’s sake mate! MOVE!!!” He yelled at the car in front.

Harry jolted in his seat once more, wincing as the motion sent another spike of pain through his ankle. Louis had slammed his hands down on the black leather steering wheel and the noise was almost deafening.

“Shit! Sorry...I... _shit_...”

“Louis it’s—"

“It’s NOT alright Harry. It’s far from fucking alright, and I really wish you’d stop saying that!”

Harry opened his mouth, fish mouthing slightly and at a loss with how to respond. He decided not to, letting out a deep sigh and turning to look out of the window beside him.

“Finally!” Louis hissed.

Harry bit his lip and watched as the traffic cleared and Louis stepped his foot down on the gas pedal, the car moving again towards its destination. Harry had been hoping to maybe end the night with a sweet taste of Louis’ lips, kissing giggles into his mouth and now that thought just seemed pathetic and stupid to him, and was seeming more unrealistic by the second.

 

*****

 

Louis wasn’t going to have any nails left if he could help it. He flinched as he realised he’d bitten his nail to the quick, the metallic taste of blood tangy on his taste buds as he sucked it from his bitten-down thumb.

He knew he should never have encouraged Harry to get up and dance with him. He’d had his reservations, but then he’d just gotten carried away. _Green eyes and short curls had a lot to answer for._

They were all having such a fucking good time and then, just as he was hoping to maybe end the night with a kiss or maybe more, a freak accident had caused them to end up in hospital of all places. He knew it was an accident, but there shouldn’t have been one. _Fuck_! How could he have been so _stupid_?

The creaking of the door he was sat facing alerted him away from his thoughts, and he watched as Harry hobbled out of the room on crutches; Louis’ stomach plummeting at the sight. He couldn’t even enjoy the vision of Harry looking so cuddly and soft in Louis'  oversized hoodie. He was grateful he’d had it stored in his locker at work, otherwise Harry would be donning a ‘ _Flaming Saddles_ ’ vest and a damp pair of jeans. At least his hoodie covered Harry’s dampened crotch area.

Not that he was thinking about _that_ again. He needed to _focus_ on the issue at hand. Particularly since _losing_ focus was what had got them there. In the _E.R._ In the _Emergency Room_ with _Harry Styles_ with a broken... _Fuck_ , he didn’t even know _what_ was broken.

“Fuck,” his lips turned downwards in regret. “I broke you!”

“Louis you didn’t ‘break me’. It’s a sprain. A grade one sprain, _if that_. It’s swollen and sore and I can’t walk on it yet—"

“Oh god...”

“ _But_...I’ll be able to walk on it in a couple of days...give or take.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, his swollen ankle raised from the floor and wrapped in a bandage, his other foot planted firmly on the ground.

He squeezed at the handles of the crutches, biting his lip anxiously as he watched a sea of emotions sweep over Louis’ face.

“Give or take?” Louis whispered; pale faced.

“Yeah...I mean sometimes it’s like a couple of days, sometimes it’s like, five...others two weeks...” He murmured, unbothered by the recovery time of his minor injury.

“TWO—”

Harry winced at Louis’ raised voice, and upon seeing Harry's reaction, Louis took a deep breath and started again.

“Two weeks?! Two fucking-”

“That’s the worst-case scenario, Louis. The doctor was pretty positive it will only be a few days, and as long as I keep it elevated and do all the medical shit he told me to, I’ll be as good as new, right?”

Harry watched as some unknown emotion glazed over Louis’ eyes and then he seemed to close himself off once more, as he had done in the car.

“Yeah. Right. Let’s get you home then...” He suggested, quietly, like his voice was as lost as the look in his eyes.

“Yeah. Doc couldn’t give me any meds due the err, alcohol consumption so, I have to wait until tomorrow and well, I’m pretty knackered now...”

“Yeah. Course. Right, well...let’s go then...”

 

*****

 

“Thanks for driving me home, Louis...” Harry glanced over at him in the car.

“Yeah...no problem. Least I could do.”

“You sure you don’t wanna just...stay over?” He broached. “It’s pretty late and I have a spare room...well several actually but-”

“Nah I...umm...best get back, really. Gotta work again tomorrow so just gonna go home and crash...” Louis made a point of staring at the empty road ahead.

“Right, yeah...of course...” Harry nodded, dipping his chin and sucking his lower lip. He looked up, deciding to try another angle of conversation. “Well, umm...tonight was... _unexpected_...” He giggled but regretted it as soon as he was met with stony silence.

“Yeah...yeah you could say that...” Louis murmured, pulling up where Harry told him to, outside his house.

“Right well...here’s umm...here’s my number?” Harry lifted his brows, holding up a small scrap of paper.

Louis nearly snapped his neck glancing across at Harry as he spoke those words. _God he_ _’_ _d been so stupid._ He had no idea how he was going to afford tonight’s medical bill. The bar paid well, but not enough for that. _Shit!_

“Louis?”

“Yeah. Umm. Shit. Yeah of course I’ll umm...call my lawyer...fuck, not that I have a lawyer but...yeah mate, I’ll see what I can-”

Louis’ words came to a standstill as Harry shifted in his seat and then a pair of warm lips melted into his own. His eyes widened in shock.

“I was giving you my number, _idiot_. As much as I’d very much like you to come inside and _not_ stay in the spare room so that I can do unspeakable things to you in my bed, I honestly don’t think I’m in a fit state to do so and I’m probably gonna conk out pretty much as soon as I get into bed...”

“Sorry, what?” Louis frowned, confused.

“I wanna treat you like a gentleman,” Harry smiled, slow and sexy. “So...dinner next week sometime? How about Ysabels? Wednesday at 7? I’ll be there, alright?”

“Are you...shitting me right now?” Louis frowned.

“I can assure you I’m not...in fact I’d really like to be _fucking_ you right now if we’re being honest,” he smirked.

“The fuck?!” Louis twisted in his seat to stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Guess that was a bit forward of me, sorry, blame the...pain?” He grasped at the most rational excuse that Louis looked like he might accept.

“Harry, I _broke_ you. I fucking broke Harry St-“

Harry slid his hand onto Louis’ cheek, his slight scruff feeling soft yet prickly underneath Harry’s fingertips at the same time.

He leant forward and pressed his lips to Louis’ once more, attempting to deepen the kiss, gently nipping at Louis’ bottom lip and encouraging him to kiss him back.

Sighing as Louis failed to follow suit, Harry leaned back and locked his gaze with Louis’. He wasn’t sure if Louis was holding back because of Harry's surname or some other reason.

“Just _Harry_ , remember? It was an accident and you’re not to blame...”

“Yeah, of course, sorry...” Louis swallowed, feeling guilty for reverting to Harry's full name. “I just feel... I’m not even sure, I just-"

“What happened to that cool, sexy and confident barman, hmmm?” Harry’s lips slid into a smirk, his eyes waiting for Louis’ reaction, wanting them both to leave the awkward tension behind and get back to the two guys at the bar who were flirting with each other like mad.

“He broke y-”

Harry pressed his index finger against Louis’ lips and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“You didn’t break me, babe. But I’d happily have you break me _in_...sometime next week though...”

“Fucking hell, Jersey. You can’t just keep coming out with shit like that, if you want me to drive away...” Louis huffed.

“Maybe I don’t want you to drive away,” He winked. “ _Maybe_ I want you to stay over. Maybe I’ll promise to be the perfect gentleman I said I’d be. Maybe you can sleep in my bed, just to sleep, and tomorrow I can cook us breakfast. I make a mean pancake, you know? And then...then maybe we can just...see where the day takes us?”

Louis looked at the hope painted across Harry’s face, the earnestness radiating from his green eyes, and he knew right there and then that he was about to diminish every last drop of it.

 _He didn’_ _t want to hurt him_. He wanted to _kiss_ him. _Really_ kiss him. He wanted to get lost in those beautiful plump cherry stained lips, and spoon him in his bed, and make pancakes with him in the morning; kissing the maple syrup from his mouth.

He _couldn_ _’t_ though. _They_ couldn’t. They wouldn’t and couldn’t work. He wasn’t stupid, Harry was never going to be a one-night stand. He’s was worth so much more than that, and Louis had realised that with a startling reality as soon as they had started whatever it was they had started. Harry wasn’t even out and Louis? Louis was just a barman who lived in a small but cosy flat adjacent to his place of work. He was happy with his life and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he wasn’t cut out to be the lover of a beautiful rock-star, a rock-star who could have anyone he wanted, who wasn’t even in one place long enough to have a relationship.

He knew that if he shared Harry’s bed tonight, he’d never want to leave. But Harry? Harry would. Harry would leave. Harry had places to be, people to see, family to go home to. Louis? Sure, he had his friends and his colleagues, and he loved them all dearly, but he had no family to go back to, he had no one. He was alone and he always had been. He was scared to let someone in, especially someone as beautiful and bright as Harry. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t dim that sparkle, and he knew that eventually he would, because their worlds were completely different, and tonight? Tonight had been _everything_ , but tomorrow it would all be over, and he’d rather leave Cinderella-style and take tonight and what it had unleashed in his heart and cherish that, than wake up tomorrow and have it all gone when reality set in.

“Louis? You okay?”

“Yeah...sorry...tired...” Louis sighed, the weight of his thoughts the most tiring thing of all.

“Yeah, I bet. So...what do you say?” Harry licked his lower lip, pensive and yet still eager for him to say “ _Yes_ ".

“I...”

Harry swallowed, the lump in his throat aching as he did so. Louis’ hesitation said it all. He’d been stupid, he’d stripped down the walls he’d put up and he’d laid his heart on the line, and all he was going to get in return, was rejection. He could feel the sting of it before he had even registered Louis’ words.

“Sorry Harry I...I really better be off now...” Louis flicked his eyes away shamefully.

“Yeah...no I...yeah, I understand. Umm. Here’s my number then. If, if next week is still good for you?”

 _God, he felt ridiculous_. He’d practically forced Louis on a date with him. Thought he could play it cool and confident, maybe a little cocky. He thought it had worked but evidently it _hadn’t_ , because even the promise of next week now seemed broken.

“Yeah...thanks, we’ll see yeah? Gotta...check my shifts and that...”

Harry watched as Louis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and looked away. That was his cue to leave.

“Right. Well. It was good to meet you and...thank you for...for everything...”

Louis wouldn’t meet his eyes and just as he was thinking he would nearly end up face-down on the sidewalk trying to get out of the car with his crutches, Louis seemed to snap out of whatever momentary daze he’d been in and slid out of his seat to walk around to open Harry’s car door for him.

“Thanks...” Harry’s words trailed off of his tongue as Louis carefully took his crutches and gently helped him out of the car, almost lifting him to stand, and then waiting there; making sure he was steady enough to take his crutches before he moved away.

Harry shivered at the feel of Louis’ hands holding his hips whilst he adjusted his crutches and then Louis’ touch was no longer there, and he was walking beside him to his front door instead.

“Can you err...get in alright?” Louis checked.

Harry would have considered sneaking him inside with a slightly false request for further assistance if Louis hadn’t already made it blatantly obvious he didn’t want to come in with him. His defense mechanism of nervous humour kicked in.

“Yeah, just, if you could just wait here and make sure I don’t stack it?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Louis’ lips and he ducked his head down, shaking out his fringe with a delicate wrist and dainty fingers.

“Yeah, course...”

Harry could feel his heart thundering in his chest. The moment felt monumental for some reason and he was scared to close his door, on Louis and the night he’d had altogether.

“Right well...thanks again, Louis...”

“Yeah. No problem. Take care Harry. Night...”

“Night,” Harry whispered, the word cracking in half as he spoke it, watching as Louis walked back to his car, raising his hand in a small wave before he got into the car and drove away.

 

*****

 

2 DAYS LATER - MONDAY

 

Louis turned the piece of paper over and over between his fingertips. He knew Harry had left it on the passenger seat on purpose because Louis had been too stupid to take it.

He had probably memorised the mobile number by now, due to how many times his eyes had taken it in. He didn’t question where Harry had gotten a pen and scratched it out. Maybe it was in the hospital whilst filling out paperwork. He could just imagine it.

_“_ _I don’_ _t suppose you have a piece of paper and a pen I could borrow, please?”_

Whoever he had asked would have been swept up in his charismatic charm and handed him the items no questions asked. He would have thanked them and smiled that beautiful priceless smile of his, and then he would have scribbled out his number and gently torn away the section of the paper, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping, so he could hand it to Louis later, not realising how such a gesture would completely flip his world on its arse.

He was torn between throwing the paper away, or instead throwing every logical thought out of the window, taking a leap of faith and texting the number with something witty he’d eventually think of.

He did neither. With a deep sigh he placed the piece of paper on his bedside table, threw back his duvet cover, and made his way to the shower.

 

******

 

Harry knew he’d been stupid. It was a ridiculous, rash decision and he was blaming everything on the delicious cocktails Louis had served at Harry’s request. He was pouting and feeling sorry for himself, but he couldn’t help it.

His sprained ankle still smarted, but the swelling was going down at least. He toyed with his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger, a habit whenever he got anxious. There was no going back now, and all he could do was wait for a response... _if_ he got one.

 

WEDNESDAY 

Louis stared at the large white envelope in absolute disbelief. The printed words stood out to him as clear as day:

 

**C/O Harry Styles, Full Stop Management**

 

He was being sued. Louis Tomlinson, Head barman at _Flaming Saddles_ gay bar, West Hollywood, was being fucking sued, and by _Harry Styles,_ nonetheless. To say that Louis was ‘shitting it’ would be an understatement.

That was what it had to be. Famous singers didn’t go around sending large white envelopes to people for fun. And they certainly didn’t issue snail mail when they were _supposed_ to be meeting up on Wednesday at 7. But then...Louis hadn't _exactly_ confirmed the meet-up. He hadn't exactly messaged Harry at _all._

He kind of wished he hadn't flung the door to his heart wide open the night he’d served Harry at the bar. Because Harry, _just Harry_ , had walked right in and stole it. And now he didn’t know what to do.

The envelope sat, unopened, in his lap chanting back at him what he already knew.

 _Don’t drag hot rock-stars up on bar-tops, it won’t end well_.

In that moment, Louis picked up his phone that was lying beside him, and angrily typed out a text message to the number he now had engrained in his brain, rather than his contacts.

‘Thanks for the delivery!’

He contemplated whether to add the middle finger emoji, but with a defeated sigh, he decided against it, and hit ‘send’ before he could talk himself out of it.

 

******

 

Harry was an idiot. Of course Louis wasn’t going to show. He hadn’t had any incoming texts from unknown numbers. He hadn’t heard from him at all since he had let himself into his house the night they hadn't _really_ kissed, because Louis hadn’t kissed him back. Which just meant that Harry had drunk-kissed a stunning man who also happened to be _not interested_. And he’d gone and sent him _that_ letter in the post without waiting _._ He was an idiot.

Harry reached for another breadstick, nearly choking on it as he took a bite; due to his mobile phone informing him he had a message. Not just _any_ message, but one from the blue-eyed barman he was currently sat pining over. The unknown number sat in his inbox, and he took a large sip of his water, clearing his throat and thumping his chest to rid it of any excess breadstick.

Biting his lip, he opened the text message, staring at the words with squinted eyes, before his lips slid into a satisfied smile.

‘Thanks for the delivery!’

Maybe it wasn’t irrational of him after all. Louis was playing it cool it seemed. _Hmm, well two could play that game._

‘You’re very welcome.’

Toying with his lip between his fingers, he pressed ‘send’ deciding against any kisses or emojis, no matter how much his fingertips were itching to add them. It was barely their first date; he didn’t want to risk appearing over-keen. He took another sip of his water and decided that Louis must be running fashionably late; texting instead of focusing on getting dressed. _Not that him being undressed for their meeting would be an issue, exactly…_

The next sixty seconds were counted by the beat of Harry’s heart; becoming heavier with each pulse. He gulped down the feeling of unease that stuck like a lump in his throat and checked his watch again.

‘Are you on your way? You know where Ysabels is yeah? x’

Harry quickly hit ‘send’, his eyes lighting up as a new message came through in quick succession.

‘Oh yeah. I’ll be there in a jiffy Harold! Can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be to be honest!”

His dimples caved into his cheeks as he smiled brightly, munching happily on another breadstick, not choking on it this time.

 

***

Harry had pictured the scene in his mind…

Louis would show up at the restaurant, and just like in one of his favourite rom-coms, he would rush in; greeting him with a chaste but sweet kiss on the cheek, profusely apologising for being so late. Harry would be reluctantly endeared by his awful time keeping and would remember not to turn up on time for any forth-coming dates.

Considering an hour had now passed since their brief text messages, it didn’t appear that there would be a _current_ date, let alone any _forthcoming_ ones. Harry knew deep down that Louis wasn’t going to show up. But he what he didn’t know was _why_.

Everything had gone to shit in the space of three thousand, six hundred seconds to be exact and he wished that he had paid more attention to the unease that had settled in his stomach earlier in the evening. But Louis had _replied._ He had told him he was on his way. How was Harry meant to know he would cruelly stand him up instead of just being man enough to tell him he had changed his mind?

That the envelope wasn’t in fact gratefully received after all; and that being with Harry was the _last_ place he wanted to be rather than the first. He pouted to himself; the fringes of anger unravelling at his edges. _No, he wasn’t going to just sit there and be stood up_ _!_ Why should he? He hadn’t done anything wrong! Except maybe—well, it was too late to alter that decision now. But it wasn’t too late to tell Louis he was a coward and a tease.

Despite having reservations about already outing himself, humiliating himself and being a complete prat, Harry wasn’t ready to give up. If there was one thing Harry fucking Styles didn’t do, it was to give up. No matter how the night ended, he deserved an honest answer as to why Louis had flaked.

Harry left a generous tip despite only drinking two glasses of water and consuming two and half breadsticks, and slightly limped out of the restaurant; now being able to bear his weight on his ankle without the aid of his crutches.

 

***

Dressed in soft grey joggers, a white oversized hoodie and a light grey beanie on his head and his feet bare; Louis had resigned himself to a night snuggled on the sofa watching Grease. _So, sue him_.

 _Actually don_ _’t_.

Harry Styles was already trying to do that and speaking of which, he was already trying not to think about his supposed date with said rock-star. The filthy, lying rock-star who had put on an act that had blown his role in ‘Dunkirk’ out of the water. _Yeah_ , Louis was bitter.

And he couldn’t help but let the _filthy_ part of his thoughts break through involuntarily, involving a wet, transparent shirt clinging to a hot, muscled body.

Louis’ inappropriate thoughts were interrupted by a pounding at his front door. He’d messaged Shawn to let him know his evening plans were cancelled if they needed urgent cover at the bar, but he didn’t think he’d come and _drag him out of his flat_. A phone-call or message in return would have sufficed quite nicely…

Throwing off the white fluffy blanket he had been snuggled under, he huffed and stomped to the door, yanking it open with a scowl on his face.

“I…um…Alright, you look gorgeous so the extra hour to get ready makes sense now, but you might wanna put some shoes on before the restaurant closes for the night…”

Louis wasn’t sure if he had been dropped on his head during the last five seconds, but either way, Harry fucking Styles was standing at his door. He could feel the anger building, but tried to tamp it down, responding with an agitated and fed up tone instead. _He sure had a nerve!_

“Are you coming to do it in person?” He mused, leaning on the door jamb.

“Coming to do what?” Harry’s brows pulled together in confusion; a small huff of what appeared to be measured irritation passing his lips.

“Well you won’t be doing _me_ , so you can wipe that fucking smirk off your face, _popstar_.”

“I’m not smirking?” Harry’s scowl deepened. “That’s called a grimace…”

“You must be trying out for your next Oscar nomination…” Louis rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the frame to turn and shut the door in Harry’s too-pretty face.

“I—I’m…lost.” Harry stammered; clearly not having gotten out the words he had wanted to; stumped at Louis’ striking attack.

“Well, you can certainly _get_ lost.” Louis quirked his brows and went to shut the door.

Harry wedged a Gucci-booted toe in the way.

"Look!” He barked. “You’re not the one who's been bloody sat down there for over an hour like a loner, waiting to eat!"

Louis pulled the door open slightly to arch his brows.

"You’re right, I’m not. I had a pizza, me..."

“Why—Why did you have a pizza when…” Harry’s eyes pinned to him accusingly; anger and hurt apparent in their green depths.

“What are you doing here, Harry? I got your papers, okay, you can drop the act. I get it. I’ll get you your money.”

“I’m confused.” His frown remained in place. “I don't want any money.”

 _Was Harry shitting him right now?!_ He let out a sarcastic bark of laughter and stormed into his flat to grab the unopened envelope that blatantly contained whatever fancy legal documentation rock-stars sent out when they were suing someone.

Harry made his way into the small boy’s cosy flat slowly, not getting particularly far as a very irate Louis reappeared holding the envelope Harry was now very much regretting sending.

“Oh, do come in, Harold.” He invited sarcastically. “Make yourself comfortable...”

“I can see this isn’t a good time but I-“

“A good time?! You have a fucking nerve, Jersey Boy! No, _now_ is a _great_ time, Harry. A _fucking_ great time!”

“Would you stop talking in riddles!” Harry took the bait and bit back. “I notice you haven’t even opened it!” He gestured to the package. “You—haven’t even… _fuck._ ”

Louis watched as Harry scratched the back of his neck, a nervous expression on his face. Something didn’t sit right, but he couldn’t see through his anger and lashed out again.

“Well, I don’t really wanna face the reality that I’m being sued for gross negligence or whatever the fuck it is, as well as your medical expenses, but-“

“The fuck Louis?! I’m not fucking suing you! You honestly thought that?!” Harry accused, his eyes piercing Louis' as angrily as Louis' had just moments before.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Louis cleared his throat, his raspy voice cracking as he spoke.

“You’re...you’re not suing me?”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his green eyes glinting as an incredulous look planted itself on his face.

“Why the fuck would I be suing you?!” He lifted his hands and flapped them down in exasperation.

“I mean...I kinda broke you?” Louis’ voice squeaked slightly on the last two words, his shoulders hunched in and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He ran a ring-clad hand through his hair, gripping it at the crown before letting go and letting out something halfway between a sarcastic laugh and a sigh.

“Christ, Louis, maybe just open it, yeah?”

Louis’ blue eyes were now swimming in shame and he nodded his head in response before ducking it down to open the envelope, biting his lip as he did so.

Harry swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat and mirrored Louis, biting his lip as he watched Louis open the package, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions as they took in the contents of Harry’s post and the full extent of what his gesture meant.

_You are cordially invited as a private guest of_ **HARRY STYLES** _to attend The Metropolitan Museum of Art_ _benefit ball on Monday 6 th May, 2019. _

“Oh...”

Louis’ voice was a mere whisper and he still wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. Harry's stomach bubbled to the brim with nervous energy and he suddenly felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. He shook his head, realising how absolutely ridiculous he had truly been.

“Yeah...maybe...this wasn’t a good idea...just...just forget it yeah...I...I should g-“

Before Harry could finish his sentence, he had an armful of soft beautiful boy nudged up against him, and Louis’ lips were firmly pressing into his own. Harry barely had time to register the kiss and return it, before Louis’ lips gently left his, and Louis’ blue eyes were shining back at him.

“Wait,” He begged “I’ve been...a fucking idiot, haven’t I?”

Harry swallowed, eyes shifting to the side while a furrow appeared in the skin above his brows. Louis wondered if it was too late to turn things around. Harry had come there, to his flat, to have it out with him as to why he hadn’t showed up for their date and that took so much fucking courage that Louis felt sick at his own equivalent cowardice.

“Do you really want me to answer that honestly?” Harry’s voice was soft; like a whisper but not quite. “‘Cause yeah, you really have been a total fuck—“

Louis’ lips found Harry’s once again, and this time he kissed back with everything in him, deepening the kiss as Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, pressing in close. Harry could feel the envelope still clutched in Louis’ hand, resting against his back and he secured his arms around Louis’ small but curvaceous waist, realising he hadn't been that close to him since Louis had caught him mid-fall off the bar.

Harry lost track of how long he’d been kissing Louis. Their kiss had certainly gotten more and more heated and his lips felt aflame when Louis pulled back, his arms still around Harry’s neck as he glanced down at Harry’s feet and back up to meet his eyes.

“I see the ankle’s healed then?”

“Mmmhmmm...”

A mischievous glint sparkled in Louis’ blue eyes and he watched as Harry's kiss-bitten lips slid into a smirk.

“So how about we skip dinner and head straight for dessert?”

“I’m pretty hungry actually,” Harry reminded him coolly.

Louis licked his lips and smirked.

“How about I feed you after?”

Harry smiled that slow smile of his that promised a dirty kind of night.

“I was kind of waiting for that rub down you promised.”

“You don’t get a rub down without hard work first, stallion,” Louis smirked, enjoying the re-ignited spark of their easy flirting.

He had worried he might have killed it off with his ridiculous assumption about the envelope. _The envelope that contained a private invitation to the biggest event in the showbiz calendar._

“Oh? Do you require a ride, Mr. Tomlinson?” Harry feigned politely.

“Yeah, to my bedroom,” Louis slipped his arms around his waist to pat his bum fondly. “Giddy up...”

Harry pouted his lips.

“Think I’m more of a stubborn ass today...”

“Well...do you wanna come and hit the hay with me?” Louis tempted him with kisses along his jaw; scruffy with light stubble just the right length to look good.

“I thought you’d never ask...” Harry grinned.

Louis let out a sound that resembled a squeal and a giggle, as Harry hoisted him up into his arms, Louis’ strong thighs now wrapped around Harry’s waist.

 

***

 

Harry slammed the bedroom door shut with his good foot, and pressed Louis up against the nearest wall, attacking his neck in nips and kisses and lowly growling in his throat.

It had taken a few walls and a few stumbles with Harry’s still-healing ankle to _get_ to the bedroom. Louis had offered to carry _him_ instead, through breathless, hair-tugging kisses, but Harry had insisted he carry out his ‘work’.

 _He must really want that rub-down,_ Louis mused.

Now that they were settled _inside_ the bedroom walls, or rather _against_ one of them; their urgent, messy, teeth-clashing, hot-mouthed kisses tempered into longer, deep, tongue-lashing ones.

Harry moaned and Louis felt the noise shoot through him like a sweet rocket; setting off a sizzling fire inside him as it went.

“Fuck, you're a supernova,” Louis gazed at him, both their mouths red and swollen from bruising kisses.

“Is that like Casanova?” Harry mumbled, tightening his arms around Louis' waist to step in closer, rubbing his body with a slow pressure against Louis’, creating the perfect friction.

“No, it's...Christ, Jersey, it’s hotter than the sun,” Louis sucked his lips at the very end of his sentence, letting out a pleased sound of his own from his throat.

Harry pulled back enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Are you burning up?” He wondered.

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Louis panted. “It’s magnificent, don’t stop...”

“As much as I wanna fuck you right now, fuck your _sexy body_ , show you what I can do and how fucking hot I can make you... _Louis_ , I _really_ wanna take you apart...you know...canter for a bit, hmm?”

Louis kissed his mouth, reassurance to his words.

“Be my guest, Jersey,” he smirked. “You are the work horse after all...”

 Harry giggled and kissed his cheek playfully.

“You _can_ call me Harry you know...” He told him in a deep, lazy voice as he hitched Louis up off the wall to carry him to the bed.

 “Yeahhhh, I know but I don’t think I—”

Louis' sassy retort was cut short by his back hitting the mattress.

“Gonna...you know... _handle_ me now, babe?” Harry plucked at his soft hooded top and gently swiped the beanie from his hair.

Louis squawked; fingers self-consciously raking through the untidy mess he’d been hiding underneath the knitted headwear.

“You know what? Perhaps we both need another hose down,” Louis suggested, wriggling awkwardly between Harry’s thighs as Harry leaned over him with the apparent intention to pin him to the bed. “Like at...Like at the bar?”

“Hmmm, I remember that,” Harry smiled, sneaking the hem of Louis’ hoodie up between pinched fingers and pushing it up to his ribs where he ducked his head and placed his lips in slow, sensuous kisses. His tongue curled around Louis' bellybutton just as Louis was trying to clear his mind enough to plan his own attack on Harry’s clothes.

“You looked like wet sin,” Louis told him openly.

“What about you?! Flinging off your top like that...” Harry laughed as he crawled back to kneel up, unbuttoning his shirt fluidly and removing it in quick succession while Louis fought not to drown in his jumper.

Harry’s fingers soon gathered the fabric and cast it away, his eyes tracing his torso. Louis tensed his body instinctively.

“You...” Harry swallowed, shuffling back a bit to curl the tie of Louis' sweatpants around his finger suggestively. “Are _beautiful_ ,” he finished with a pained smile, his free hand adjusting himself in his tight jeans.

He slid his hands under Louis' trouser band, but didn’t rid the garment, his fingers quickly finding a happy home curved around his arse, his fingertips digging into the firm flesh when Louis shifted slightly; lifting his hips to give Harry the access he silently requested.

“And you know what else?” Harry pressed kisses to his neck and up to his jaw, temptingly hot and sexy in their smudged imperfection.

“No?” Louis squeezed his hips with his knees and clutched his shoulders.

Harry’s breath, his _voice_ , was right beside his ear, soft short curls brushing his cheek and making him shiver as he tightened his arms around his wide shoulders when Harry leaned in.

“Want you to relax,” he told him, soft and deep, fingers gliding up from his arse into the curve of his lower back, drawing a soft sound from Louis’ lips. Harry brushed his thumbs into his sides. “You look good, Louis. I'm like...embarrassingly close to just jizzing in my jeans because of _how_ good you look, yeah?”

Louis nodded, a stuttered move that was melted by Harry’s kiss and the way his hand cupped the back of his head to imprint the emotion of that kiss into his mouth.

Soon enough his free hand tugged at his sweatpants string, then splayed over his naked belly, his kiss deepening with an expert tongue.

“Hey, Jersey, you gonna get naked soon, or...?” Louis breathed, striving to sound sassy and fearing he came off wanton instead.

“Yes, sir,” Harry winked as he wiggled on the bed to strip himself, Louis biting his lip as he looked at his sweats. “Leave those for me,” Harry warned with the same growl in his voice as when he'd hauled Louis up against him.

“I quite like the sound of Sir,” Louis folded his arms behind his head, crossing his ankles delicately as he watched Harry peel off his jeans with a furrowed brow in his determination to mind his recovering ankle.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Harry remarked as he tucked a thumb under his boxers’ waistband and gently snapped it against his skin. “That better?” He smirked.

“Think you forgot something,” Louis smiled as his eyes drifted over Harry’s torso keenly.

“Fuck off,” Harry flicked his toe, climbing over his hips. “I’m not calling you _Sir_ , you little shit...”

“I meant your _underwear_ ,” Louis eyed the shape of his arousal with dark eyes, tongue-tip wetting his lips.

“Oh,” Harry's brows drew together right before an impish smile hit his lips. “Thought you might like, you _know_...a little lead up...”

“I’m ready to run the race,” Louis assured, dipping his eyes to his own hard dick, visible through the soft material of his joggers.

“So, I see,” Harry remarked as he gently revealed Louis' hips by carefully pulling on the fabric to expose just enough skin for him to kiss.

Louis weakened a bit, body curling in defense to the blatant attack. Harry might already be close, but Louis could bet he was closer.

“Right,” he gasped, surging upwards and gaining traction to tumble Harry down onto his bed; the sight of which distracted him momentarily. “Yeah, could get to like this,” he murmured while Harry tried to gain control again, arms and legs flailing.

“Ah!” Louis straddled him and pinned his wrists with a flex of his biceps. “Now, now, wild stud...”

Harry huffed out some bemused air.

“Louis, you do realise I’m not _actually_ a horse, right?”

Louis feigned shock.

“You’re not? Fuck, and all this time...” He let go of Harry’s wrists to settle the throbbing heat of his straining dick gently in his palm, his boxers still an annoying barrier. Harry stilled at the touch, throat bobbing. “You’re hung like one,” Louis quipped, Harry groaning at the obvious joke, his throat tight at the feel of Louis’ hand cradling his manhood with clear intention.

“Can we just—Can we _do_ something,” Harry pleaded, a little bit breathless as Louis stroked him through his shorts.

“Well, can I take these off now?” Louis pinged his boxer elastic sharply against his hip. “Or are you still pretending to be a shy mare?”

“No,” Harry blurted, voice thick. “No, I’m not fucking shy. I just wanted to; you know...”

Louis fiddled with his joggers’ ties while Harry leaned in to kiss him, dipping to kiss his chest in lieu of a proper response to Louis' request. Before Louis could think about teasing Harry some more, he was hauled into a new position and settled underneath a solid body.

Harry wasn’t heavy but somehow Louis felt deliciously crushed by him. He was shifting about awkwardly, lips not quite kissing the way Louis had come to expect and then suddenly everything clicked into place.

Harry found his groove. And holy fuck did he _have_ a groove. Their bodies aligned, their mouths synced, and it was all happening at once. Body upon body, grinding; kissing deep and—

There were stars there but Louis wasn’t going to tell him that. He hoped he didn’t need to. He hoped that Harry was deriving just as much pleasure as Louis was and the breathy noises he was making went some way to reassure him.

“Wait,” Harry’s head popped up, finger and thumb pinching his lower lip while Louis took advantage of the break in hot rutting to scrunch Harry’s curls against his fingers to test the feel.

“Wait?” Louis checked; mock-offended.

“Where’s your lube?” He asked.

Louis blinked.

“You interrupted _that_ just to ask about my lube?” Louis looked at him incredulously.

“If...um...If I'm really fucking you then I’d like to get the stuff ready,” he defended.

“It’s right there, in the drawer,” Louis pointed to his bedside cabinet.

Harry wormed his way across the bed to find the lube and condoms, Louis’ hand curling around his inner thigh in gentle ownership.

“I think a love-bite would be perfect right _there_ ,” he thumbed the tender skin at the back of Harrys thigh, brushing the hairs into order.

“No,” Harry jack-knifed his body to glare at him. The image of a grumpy kitten popped into Louis’ mind.

“Just a little kiss, then?” Louis asked, holding Harry down by his legs as Harry tried to twist to swipe him.

“Not my thighs...Louis, _please_ ,” he begged, ineffectively.

“I mean, you’re saying _no_ but your body, Harry...your body is saying _yes_ ,” Louis accused, licking into a dimple in Harry’s lower back.

“Fuck,” Harry squirmed, clearly holding onto the last dregs of his control. “I-I'm just _sensitive_ , alright?” He looked over his shoulder. “I bruise like a peach.”

“Bet you taste like one, too,” Louis ducked down and gently sucked a bruising kiss on the underside of Harry's bum-cheek, patting him on his boxer-clad behind once he’d rearranged the material of his boxers to cover his work. “I should get a photo,” he considered belatedly.

“If you think I’m letting you take pictures of my bare, bitten arse, Louis!” Harry warned, finally reaching the beside cabinet. “There's no fucking lube here,” he pouted. “ _Or_ condoms...”

Louis opened his mouth. And then closed it.

“What?” He frowned, confused.

Harry rooted about in the drawer, twisting to look at Louis who had settled back gently on his calves.

“There's no sex stuff...”

“Well, it's been a while,” Louis muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “Maybe I put them in the bathroom cabinet.”

Louis lifted off of Harry’s legs to crawl to the edge of the bed.

“Um,  I don’t think so,” Harry sat up and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ wrist before he could surge off the edge of the bed.

Louis glanced at him.

“Changed your mind, Jersey Boy?” Louis checked. “Wanna cuddle instead?” He smirked.

“Fuck off,” Harry huffed. “I wanna _fuck._ But you're not going anywhere without _me_ ,” he stated with a dimpled grin.

“Why?” Louis mused. “I’ll be thirty seconds at best...”

“Then you'll be thirty seconds with me kissing you,” Harry insisted, sliding off the bed. “Up,” he commanded.

“ _You're_ the horse, Harry. I tell _you_ when to-"

Louis gasped as Harry leaned down to wind his arms around him, tugging him off the bed. Harry’s breath was hot against his ear again; steadying against the wild racing of his heart. Louis could feel his pulse against his bare chest and his wrist, his throat tightening in want.

“Just— _jump_ ,” Harry told him.

Louis did as he was told, sucking a messy kiss into Harry’s lips as he adjusted to Louis' weight again. When he turned toward the bedroom door, he staggered slightly, one hand pressed to the wall before _Louis_ was pressed there; kissed hotly and _palmed_ quite thoroughly over his underwear.

“Can we move?” Louis tousled his hair.

“Yeah,” Harry ground out, swallowing. “You taste so good...”

“ _Christ_ , “ Louis dug his nails gently into Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna go bareback and raw our first time, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled. “Fucking hate you...”

“You can show me how much when we find the treasure,” Louis teased.

They moved along the hall, Louis directing Harry until they slid into his modest bathroom.

“Here?” Harry shuffled as close to the cabinet as he could.

Louis opened both sides and shifted things about.

“ _Shit_.”

Harry captured his gaze.

“Tell me you’ve got the stuff,” his voice was deep, his body was taut and hot and Louis just wanted to lay in the sink there and then and have Harry break the basin off the wall fucking him.

“Yeah,” he murmured, frowning. “I do!” He promised at Harry’s arched brow.

“Think I might have condoms in my wallet...” Harry offered, hauling Louis up to move again.

“You’re not fucking me with your pretentious rock-star rubbers,” Louis argued. “I know where it’ll be,” he added. “Back to my room, Jersey...”

Harry kissed him hard just to shut him up, wrapping his arms around his back as they moved into the hall. Louis nibbled at his ear, causing Harry to veer into the wall to kiss him.

“If I re-sprain my ankle, I’m blaming you.”

“Err, it was _your_ idea to cart me around,” Louis sassed.

“Right, more of your mouth and you'll be piggy-backing,” Harry pressed his hard length into Louis to make his point.

“We'll be _bare_ backing unless you get us back in there,” Louis pointed to his room.

Harry’s lips twitched; eyes dark as his lashes flicked up to reveal them. He settled more purposefully between Louis' thighs where he had him trapped against the wall.

“You really want my dick, don’t you, babe?” He smirked, sucking a kiss on the hinge of Louis' jaw.

“Everyone at the bar will see that,” Louis breathed, arching his neck in the event Harry felt like sucking a few more marks on his neck. He switched to gentle kisses.

“Hm?” He feigned deafness.

“And _you're_ the one who can’t control himself,” Louis added in response to Harry’s accusation.

Louis _did_ really want his dick but he'd die before he admitted it.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry jostled him a bit as he prepared to move them again, strolling confidently into the bedroom where he tipped Louis backwards onto the bed. “Where’s the stuff, Louis?”

Louis twisted, reaching underneath the bed awkwardly but Harry didn’t move away for a second, hands gripping his thighs to keep him from tumbling off the bed.

“Eureka!” Louis lifted a box up and tossed the contents onto the bed covers.

“Pick something,” Harry told him.

Louis swallowed, choosing not to waste more time arguing. Harry’s eyes looked dark enough to implode and Louis felt like he wasn’t far off himself.

He quickly plucked the mint lube bottle up along with a condom packet.

“Is that extra-large?” Harry’s brow arched as he again lifted Louis from the bed.

“Where are we going now?” He clung to Harry and the goods.

“There’s a wall with your name on it, you might recall we got pretty cosy there earlier...”

“Don’t think I’ve felt _cosy_ since you hitched me on you, to be fair,” Louis remarked.

Harry spluttered into laughter as their eyes met, bright and dark all at once. The moment lingered, melting into a longing kiss, hot and slick; reuniting the spark into a slow burning fire.

When Harry pulled away to help lower Louis to the ground to peel off his boxer-briefs _finally,_ Louis huffed a bit to cover his momentary anxiety about his body.

“You do know the bed is perfectly serviceable?”

Harry didn’t respond, delicately clasping Louis' ankles one by one to step out of his underwear. His eyes were transfixed on Louis' achingly hard dick.

“Beautiful,” he swallowed, glancing upwards.

“Shut up, Jersey,” Louis huffed, feeling hot lava snaking through his belly at his reverence.

Harry pressed a kiss to his length, fisting around him smoothly to angle his straining hard-on towards his mouth.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Louis hissed, curling fingers into the longer length of hair on the crown of Harry’s head.

“Another day,” Harry decided, straightening up.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, lifting his face to earn another kiss as Harry wrapped his arms around him and crowded him against the wall.

“Can you get naked now?” Louis breathed in his ear, teeth nipping the shell.

“Fuck, yeah,” Harry nodded, shoving his shorts down to his knees. “Can I get my fingers in you?” He asked in return.

Louis only handed him the lube in response.

It was fucking incredible. He had suspected it might be. The temptation for lesser men would have been to rush the fingering. To stretch him open quick and efficient. Harry was a masochist. Louis wasn’t sure how he hadn’t come all over him as he parted his digits; or when he kept sliding more in easily as though they had done this multiple times; like this wasn’t the first.

He kissed strong and slow, sometimes his breath hitched and he got excited, pressing Louis hard into the wall. Louis learned he liked being crushed. It was the best feeling in the world when his Jersey Boy was the one weighing him down.

The condom had been applied somewhere around three fingers and it was a blur, a hot fuzz of movement that Louis didn’t care much to remember in precision.

“You think you’re ready for this?” Harry’s fingertips circled his rim leisurely, Louis shifting with a whimper of need.

“I was ready an hour ago, sadist.”

“M'names Harry actually...”

“No, it's—”

Louis’ throat closed up. With the fingertips of one hand clawing his arse-cheek open and the other splayed _firmly_ on his back, Harry had _thrusted_. And Louis was speared with his heat.

And _fuck_ he was incredible. He _felt_ incredible. His eyes, which had screwed shut, fluttered open.

“You-" he cast in a weak breath.

“You wouldn’t be quiet,” Harry smiled at him sexily, hair flopping in an endearing way that shouldn’t be sexy but it was.

“I'm...”

“Quiet now, hmmmm, so I see,” Harry kissed his mouth. “You good?”

“Will I get out alive?” Louis checked.

“Probably not,” Harry shifted on his feet, momentarily forgetting he hadn't fully rid his shorts and that they were tangled around his ankles.

He thrust deeper, chest heavy with the onslaught of breathing.

“You feel—”

“Don’t say it,” Louis begged, cupping his jaw and kissing him. Harry began to move slowly, a painfully pleasurable rhythm.

“Say what?” He murmured. “How amazing you feel?”

“Such a cliché,” Louis gripped his shoulders and flexed his thighs to match Harry's thrusts.

“What if it happens to be true?” Harry asked as he pulled further out and then sank in hard; jolting Louis' body against the wall. He growled a bit in his throat and dipped his forehead to rest against Louis’.

“Do you have to talk?” Louis grasped the back of his hair gently to angle his head to kiss him.

“You don’t like talking during sex?” Harry flicked his hips, harder than the last time.

“I like _having_ sex,” Louis muttered.

“So much so, that your sex stuff was buried under your bed in an old box gathering dust...”

Louis gasped as Harry lifted him away from the wall, letting him sink right down on his dick.

“Look, just because you’ve got a big dick and an ego to match doesn’t mean we all— _fuck_ ,” Louis breathed as Harry backed him against the wall with a gentle knock; fucking hard into him.

“What was that about my dick, babe?” Harry smirked, biting Louis' shoulder as he thrust faster now, over and over, hard and steady.

“It feels really good,” Louis panted,  arching into it. “Jersey, you really are a stallion, huh...”

Harry snickered into his neck, gently sucking as he filled him again, tight and deep, a place he’d like to stay if it became physically possible to do so.

“Want you on your hands and knees,” Harry told him, wet breath against his ear.

Louis shook out his fringe.

“Now?”

“Yes, now,” Harry pulled him away from the wall and shuffled, penguin style.

“Kick your shorts off before you end up in hospital again,” Louis chastised.

They separated on the bed, Louis clenching for the heat he'd just been stretched open with; losing his breath again when Harry mounted him from behind and fucked right back into him; this time with his gentle fingers clasped around his hips. As gentle as that touch was; he grasped firmly, leaving Louis no room to wriggle away.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked, deep in him, laying over him, taking over Louis' senses with his sweat-tinged smell and his hot, damp body.

“Fuck, yeah,” he assured.

Harry curled his arms around Louis' waist, one hand splaying on his belly and one on his chest. It was relentless but raw in the best way possible. Louis tried to push back, to take some of his weak control back to fuck himself on Harry’s dick but Harry misunderstood his shift, lifting off his back and drawing Louis upright on his knees with him.

“Like this, babe?” Harry mumbled in his ear.

Louis circled his hips experimentally, his back brushing Harry’s chest as he clenched slightly around his hard heat; adjusting to the new angle.

“ _Oh_....”

He felt the puff of arrogant air Harry huffed out.

“Mmmhmmm...” Harry shifted a little closer and held Louis tight against him while Louis slid up and down with a pleasured sigh.

“This is um...” Louis' breath hitched and his body felt weak and strong all at once. “Yeah,” he swallowed.

Harry's hand travelled slowly down his torso, fingertips tracing his sternum, then his ribs, his belly and lower; below his hips until they glided up the underside of his dick.

“I’m gonna— if you... _Jersey_...”Louis gasped as Harry hummed against his ear and stroked him; fucking slowly in while Louis came apart.

It was spectacular; Harry's heavy heat inside him while he hit his peak; gasping and shuddering; safe in Harry’s arms while he splashed his release over himself. Harry gathered some on his fingertip to taste.

“Not as sweet as you look,” he teased, deep voice rough with sex.

“Do you last all night, stallion?” Louis wondered.

“No, I’ve been waiting for you,” Harry told him. “And I’d really like to come on your arse if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah... _Christ_ , yeah, babe.”

Louis felt him slide out; the loss of _thick hot Harry_ momentarily disappearing until Harry gently bent Louis forward to bare his behind, fisting himself off with barely three strokes before sticky splashes accompanied gasped, soft cries.

“Fuck,” Harry drew in a long breath among short staccato ones, chest flushed and fingers sticky with come. “Well, that definitely beat going for dinner...”

From the mattress, Harry made out Louis' mumble. “I’ve always been a dessert man myself.”

“You don’t say,” Harry sucked some residue off his lion ring.

Louis twisted onto his side, looking up.

“Are you tasting your own jizz?”

Harry's lips pulled into a smug smile.

“Cleaning my rings, actually...”

“Harry fucking Styles,” Louis began to grin, swiping his wet fringe off his forehead and dangling his wrist delicately. “You’re so into yourself that you lick your own come...I’m so turned off right now. The last hour is worthless,” he mocked. “Erased.”

Harry paused from where he was flicking his tongue between his fingers.

“You want some?” He offered his filthy hand to Louis.

“No thanks,” Louis made a face. “All I want is a shower...”

“I can carry you if you'd like...”

Louis carefully crawled to the edge of the bed.

“Not if you’re gonna fuck me into the wall again,” Louis complained.

“Come here,” Harry chased him as he too got to his feet.

Louis dashed for the bedroom door.

“Help, police!” He squealed, giggling down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare—"

Harry was wedged between the half-shut door and the doorjamb before he could tell Louis _not to._

“You know, I don’t _have_ to come in,” Harry stepped away, the door shutting firmly in his face. “I know all about respecting privacy!” He shouted, hearing the shower stream start up. “I’ll just wait in your room...or maybe the _kitchen_ ,” Harry smiled. “You think your neighbours will see me?” He asked as he turned towards the stairs.

The bathroom door jerked open.

“Get in here, Jersey,” Louis narrowed his eyes.

Harry slouched a hip.

“I thought maybe I could introduce myself...let next door know how much you enjoyed a good dicking....”

“I think they already know,” Louis quipped, widening the door to step into the hall, naked and ruined by sex. “Get in the stable for your hose down,” he added, playfully smacking Harry’s arse.

Harry moved with reluctance, shooting Louis a look over his shoulder.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Empty threats,” Louis rolled his eyes, flinging the shower door open to climb inside.

Harry crowded close to Louis, kissing him hotly under the stream of water. It was slow and sweet and maybe a little bit unexpected. After Louis had resigned himself to a strings-free encounter with Harry, he wasn’t sure what after-sex service the singer might give him.

Louis' hands nestled Harry's arse-cheeks with a gentle squeeze. Since Harry was playing nice, then so would he.

“You want that rub down now?”

_//_

“You’re awake...” Louis stirred from his snoozy sleep; cheek pressed hard against the pillow with his knee overlapping Harry’s thigh where Harry was comfortably sprawled on his back; arms folded behind his head.

Louis blinked; swallowing nervously. Harry’s green eyes followed his slow, shifting movements.

“I’m awake,” his lips pulled into the laziest of smirks.

“Glad we confirmed that,” Louis mused; propping on one elbow and tidying his hair with the fingers of his free hand.

“And the sex was good,” Harry added with a deep, husky timbre to his voice that Louis’ body seemed to react to; even if it wasn’t for the sight of a topless Harry.

Louis was trying to summon some annoyance at the fact that Harry had attractive armpits and was finding it hard to feel any malice towards the man in his bed.

“The sex _was_ good,” Louis agreed.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, you _are_ a rock star,” Louis sniffed; about to flop back down to the mattress on his side. Harry unfolded an arm from behind his head and slipped it seamlessly around Louis’ shoulders, coaxing him to settle more comfortably against his side.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry feigned offence.

Louis snorted, poking him in the ribs.

“Just that you probably share your bed with a fair few minions like me.”

“You’re not a minion, you’re not round and yellow.”

Louis rolled his eyes, moving onto his back and settling his head in the armpit he had just been admiring.

“Fuck.”

“Yep,” Harry murmured; fingertips brushing against Louis’ side ticklishly when Louis folded his arms over his chest.

“No, I mean…” Louis huffed. “ _Fuck_ ,” he sighed, distraught.

Harry slid him a cautious look, teeth sinking temptingly into his kiss-ravaged lower lip.

“Is there a problem?”

“I’d say,” Louis frowned, twisting to get up; then belatedly realising his bare state; twisting to check Harry’s take on that particular fact and finding his worried gaze quickly shifting from his backside to his face.

“Louis?”

“I need clothes,” he muttered stressfully; glancing around the bedroom floor for something to tug on.

“Here,” Harry tossed him an item of clothing that whipped him gently on the back; forcing him to turn and bend to fetch it. It was the sheer shirt Harry had worn with his jeans.

“How’s this meant to help?” Louis straightened up, dangling the flimsy garment with a pinch.

Harry shrugged from the bed, propped up on the headboard now. Louis went to his chest of drawers to dig out some shorts; fingers hovering on selecting a t-shirt and deciding to pull one of those on as well. He couldn’t think straight right now. Being naked wasn’t helping. Harry being naked was helping even less.

When Louis turned back towards the bed to climb back on it; Harry looked kind of different. His head was tilted downwards into his lap where he had pulled the duvet up to his ribs and pinned it in place with his arms. His fingers were threaded tightly together; white-knuckled and taut like the flexing muscle in his jaw.

“I guess this is the speech,” Harry smiled wanly; not meeting Louis’ eyes.

“What speech?” Louis hesitated; wondering if Harry was about to tell him that he had been a great lay but that he wasn’t going to see him again. Maybe he was going to tell him that Louis was right after all; he was a rock-star so nothing could ever come of this…whatever it was. A fling? Barely that.

Maybe it was best if Louis didn’t share the thoughts that had tumbled into his head the second he had woken up to the reality of finding Harry beautiful and bare in his bed with Louis’ faint marks on his skin and the evidence of his kiss upon his tempting mouth.

“You _know_ ,” Harry grimaced. “The one where you say that I’m too famous for you to want to try dating and-“

“Wait,” Louis cut him off, hands lifting to his prop on his hips. “Hold up there, Jersey.”

Harry shrugged again but it was painful and weak.

“It’s okay, Louis.”

“No, it’s fucking not okay, Harold,” Louis barbed. “If we aren’t the two fucking dumbest idiots I swear to god…”

Harry’s head snapped up, brows furrowed.

“You’re reading this all wrong,” Louis carried on. “Just like I did with your letter, yeah?”

“You just jumped out of bed and got dressed, what was I meant to think?” Harry argued; a little petulantly if Louis considered it.

He couldn’t help his smile as he climbed back under the covers.

“Well, you’re too fucking naked for a start,” Louis muttered. “How am I meant to have a proper conversation when I just want to—anyway,” he cleared his throat.

Harry’s eyes flared a little; pinning to him keenly.

“What were you going to say, then?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Louis promised. “The point is that the reason I was swearing is because I really like you and I _shouldn_ _’t_ ,” he mused.

Harry’s smile was slow but worth the wait.

“Believe it or not,” he licked his lips. “I really like you too…”

“It’s just that…we’ve—we’ve only just met, yeah?”

“Is that a problem?” Harry asked, voice deliberately gentle.

“You’re not...you know… _out_ ,“ Louis let out a breath of relief at saying the words that made him so anxious.

“Yet,” Harry murmured quietly, reaching for Louis’ duvet-covered thigh and resting his hand there. “We’re...well, we’re working on it...” he broached, cautiously.

Louis looked to his right to check Harry’s expression. “Really?”

“Mmmhmm...” Harry nodded, throat bobbing.

“That’s...well, fuck, that’s great for you, Harry.”

“It’s great for you, too,” He let his smile break free; small and hopeful. “If…if you wanted to, you know…”

“Fuck, yeah,” Louis quickly reassured him, grasping his hand.

“So, I know it’s not exactly your average first date but...I meant want I said about coming to the Met Gala with me.”

Louis smiled; eyes meeting Harry’s reassuringly.

“I would proper love to be your date but I think it’s a bit much, yeah? For our first date, at least. I don’t want the press making me out to be after your fame.”

“It was a bit crazy to invite you,” Harry conceded with a sheepish look. “I just…didn’t want to lose you after that night we met, you know? And I didn’t hear from you for a few days and I—I just panicked. I know it was…well…stupid,” he added coyly.

“You don’t do things by halves do ya?” Louis accused fondly, twisting to cup his jaw to place a kiss on his mouth.

“Nah, but that’s ‘cause I’m Harry fucking Styles...” Harry winked.

Louis caught his sparkling eyes and hiccupped into a giggle; Harry melting into matching laughter.

“You know, if I’m Jersey, you’re Ren,” Harry stated a few moments later, once they’d settled beside each other comfortably.

“You talking shit again Styles?”

“Fuck off. You’ve seen footloose right?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay I get it now...”

“Wait…I don’t even know your surname,” Harry shifted, propping onto his side to rest his head on Louis’ bicep.

“That’s because you’re a rock-star,” Louis accused fondly.

“Just tell me,” Harry tugged at his t-shirt affectionately.

“It’s Tomlinson,” Louis smiled down at him.

“ _Louis Tomlinson_...mmm, I like it.”

“Oh, you do, do ya?” Louis smirked.

“Mmmhmm. Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted-“

Louis leaned across to pinch Harry’s nipple; twisting sharply.

“Ow, you fucker, what was that for?!”

“Your sass. Carry on Styles...”

“Don’t think I will actually. Don’t think you deserve the praise...”

Louis climbed on top of Harry, straddling him and stripping his own t-shirt off so that he could press their torsos together when he coaxed Harry into a lovely, deep kiss.

“ _Fuck_ , Louis...” He breathed when Louis’ lips trailed along his jaw and onto his neck.

“Mmm, yeah, fuck Louis. I like the sound of that…”

Harry lifted a hand from his gentle grip on Louis’ waist to slap his arse gently. 

“Cheeky, but…I like the sound of it, too.”

“Oi, who said you could touch the goods?” Louis gripped Harry’s wrist and pinned it to the mattress.

“I did,” Harry smirked, tickling Louis’ side with his free hand; giggling as he rolled them over to press firmly into Louis’ body to pin him down.

Louis gasped; fighting back with his own fingers; Harry melting into beautiful wild yelps of laughter as Louis got control and swung Harry back over; landing with a thump on the bed.

“You little—!” Harry complained.

“What?” Louis sat atop him, victorious.

“You have some smooth moves, Tomlinson.” Harry conceded with a slow blink; squirming between Louis’ thighs.

“Only when it comes to you, Jersey...” Louis sealed his promise with a soft kiss.


	2. Epilogue

“Are we nearly done?” Louis looked up from his frantic, brief table-wiping to check on Shawn’s progress.

It was Wednesday night and the only night the club closed early, after lunch, so they could clean it properly without patrons getting in the way.

And today, Louis wanted to be out of there faster than usual because today was _special_.

It was the first anniversary of the night he'd met Harry in that very same building, and he had it all planned out.

Home-cooked meal, flowers, a spectacular dessert...

He smirked. His dessert in the fridge might not get eaten until the following morning if his _other_ dessert went well. And Harry had told him only recently just how much he loved Louis' _dessert._

To say Louis was thrumming with anticipation was an understatement.

“What’s got into you, Tommo?” Shawn glanced over, bemused.

“Nothing,” he replied, a little too quickly. “Just you know...got stuff to do, yeah?”

“We've all got stuff to do,” Shawn grinned, straightening up from where he was stacking chairs upside down upon clean table-tops so that the carpet could be cleaned overnight. “But you’re off the scale...”

“Fine,” Louis sighed, rolling his eyes and threading his fingers through his fringe lightly. “I’m planning something special for Harry tonight. It’s our first year together.”

Shawn’s lips fell open in a half-delighted, half-surprised smile.

“It’s been a year?!” He marvelled.

Louis felt his own lips pull into a warm smile.

“Yeah...”

“Feels like ten!” Niall strode in and slammed down a crate of beers.

“Fuck off,” Louis stuck his middle finger up.

“Well you're practically a married couple so I’m not exactly lying, mate...”

“We're not like a married couple,” Louis frowned, avoiding the way his stomach seemed to loop excitedly at the idea.

“No? I saw some guy chatting Hazza up the last time he popped in to see you...you know, when you gifted him one of our limited-edition red sweaters, _just because_?” He teased amusedly.

“We’ve got plenty to fulfil the VIP gift bags,” Louis muttered, moving to wash out his cloth and his hands at the bar sink. “Who's this guy you saw talking to Harry, then?” He slipped a nonchalant look over his shoulder.

“Hah!” Niall pointed at him, crowing. “Told ya!”

“Just because I’m interested in who Harry knows doesn’t mean-"

“Saw him try and slip your Jersey Boy his number,” Niall added.

“Alright, I’m going to fucking shred the guy. We'll go through the CCTV tapes and you can point him out...”

Shawn’s giggle broke Louis' momentary anger.

“Oh,” Louis nodded with a knowing swallow. “You’re lying.”

Niall smirked.

“I wasn’t actually but you’re safe, Tommo,” he patted Louis' shoulder. “Harry turned him down flat.”

“Well,” Louis took a deep breath as something took flight in his belly. “That’s...Yeah. That’s...”

“And we’ve uploaded the picture of you two in your matching _Saddles_ merch,” Shawn winked. “You gonna guest-serve in New York again soon?”

Louis lifted his chin.

“Depends if Harry's working there soon,” he stated, unashamed.

“But you’re not married,” Niall added as he moved behind the bar to stock the fridges.

“Do you need a hand?” Louis hovered, itching to get home.

“Nope, these babies will wait until tomorrow. You OK to lock up, Tommo?” Niall checked.

“Always do,” Louis joked, tapping the pocket of his jeans to showcase his careful minding of the keys.

“Right let’s move, Shawn, before he really loses his temper...”

“Ha-ha,” Louis laughed sarcastically, ushering them out into the street.

“Happy Anniversary, buddy,” Shawn told him before he turned away with a final salute in farewell, Louis turning back to set the building security alarms before he locked the door.

He frowned as the swirling disco lights started up; the ones that circled the main performance stage with the pole and looped into the crowd.

“Hello?” He called out, nerves prickling his skin. “Who's back there?” He changed route to head straight for the lighting control panel, freezing in his place when the sharp thud of cowboy boot-heels hit wooden floorboards.

He knew the sound so well and yet in this scenario, with no music or noise from the crowds they usually attracted; it fell odd.

“Good evenin', Stable-hand...”

Louis gulped. _Harry._ His voice was unmistakable but...

_Fuck._

What was he wearing?

What _wasn_ _’t_ he wearing more importantly?!

“ _Fuck me_.”

“That’s my line,” Harry winked, cheek dimpling as he came to a stop at the edge of the stage where Louis had frozen. Louis could hear the extra warmth and drawl from Harrys attempt at a Texan accent.

“Shit, Harry, are you-“

“That’s _Jersey_ to you, handsome,” Harry tilted his head and lifted his white Stetson in greeting. It looked like the very one that Louis had worn the night they met.

“Fuck, are you for real?” Louis wondered.

It was very possible he was having a stress-induced hallucination. He’d been working so hard the last week to get tonight just right and now it felt like he had completely lost the plot.

He found renewed courage to dip his gaze below Harry’s throat where a red neckerchief was knotted and once again reminded that he wasn’t imagining things. Harry was topless in a black leather waistcoat, his upper body seemingly fake-tanned and oiled up so that his skin glistened temptingly.

Where Louis' gaze dipped down between his pecs and traced the ridges of his tummy muscles, the waistcoat was fastened tightly at the back to accentuate his slim waist.

The thick, heavy belt that was slung around his hips had a huge eagle emblem as a buckle; clearly a costume item purchased specifically for Harry to match his arm tattoo, but the tight black boxer-briefs and leather chaps were standard issue.

Louis swallowed.

Strangely he'd never had any issues with _anyone else_ wearing the uniform but suddenly now; seeing Harry’s lush long, bare legs hinted at underneath the shrouding material had _some_ kind of reaction on his body that he couldn’t quite describe.

“Dessert,” his voice cracked, throat dry, mind fixated.

“Are you lookin' at my goods?” Harry teased, cupping ring-free fingers over his barely disguised package. “I haven't even danced yet, _pretty_...”

Louis opened his mouth to question the nickname and snapped it shut when the music started, Harry seamlessly body-rolling with a confidence he certainly hadn't shown much before tonight unless he was performing to thousands.

Louis only wished he’d had the benefit of a shower and change of clothes himself, feeling frazzled from his busy day.

“You should probably sit down, sugar,” Harry swaggered toward the pole.

“You’re going to dance on the _pole_???!”

“Happy Anniversary, babe,” Harry blew a kiss that Louis made sure to catch; the heavy beat of the song kicking in.

# _Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on_ _Livin' like a lover with a radar phone_ _Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp_ _Demolition woman, can I be your man?”_

“Owww!” Harry let out a high-pitched battle cry; not dissimilar to those Louis had seen him use at his shows, but there in the club, just for him, giving him a private show...accompanied by a brazen and cheeky slap of his own hand on his arse and a wink thrown Louis' way; he felt his dick begin to pulse right along with the beat of the song.

 _#Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light_ _Television lover, baby, go all night#_

Harry gripped the pole and leaned back, thighs straddling the metal as he thrust suggestively while mouthing the songwords.

 _#Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet_ _Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah..._

 _So c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up_ _Break the bubble, break it up...#_

Harry stomped, lifted a knee to slide up the pole while he arched his back and dislodged his hat to fling to Louis. Shaking his hair out, he started the chorus and his arms flexed as he took his weight against the pole to glide around it.

 _#Pour some sugar on me!_ _Ooh, in the name of love_ _Pour some sugar on me!_ _C'mon, fire me up_ _Pour your sugar on me!_ _I can't get enough#_

Louis' mouth felt dry as Harry gripped the pole between two strong, taut thighs and hung back to slip off his waistcoat; his entire torso bared for Louis' lucky eyes. The way his neckerchief remained, tied around his neck, was strangely arousing.

“Christ,” he swallowed, then lamented the biblical utterance in the face of blatant debauchery.

 _#I'm hot, sticky sweet_ _From my head to my feet, yeah#_

Harry threw another exaggerated wink and stuck out his tongue, licking his thumb and finger to pinch his lips before he continued his pole dance.

His chaps flapped out as he swung, gorgeous legs revealed along with his muscular little arse that Louis was already planning on biting again later. And this time he _would_ post it to his social media; he mused.

 _#Listen! red light, yellow light, green-a-light go!_ _Crazy little woman in a one man show_ _Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love_ _Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up Loosen up! #_

If Louis loosened up now, he'd probably end up on the stage fucking Harry up against the pole. Instead he sat and watched, eyes wide, lips parted and thighs pushed apart to create space enough for the arousal he was already sporting.

Harry had lowered from the pole with a graceful spin, one he looked far too smug about when he landed. His fingers went to the buckles fixing his chaps in place.

 _#You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little_ _Tease a little more_ _Easy operator come a knockin' on my door_ _Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet_ _Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah_ _Give a little more_

 _Take a bottle, shake it up_ _Break the bubble, break it up#_

Chaps tossed aside, bare but for his briefs, Harry took a running jump at the pole to climb it once more; clinging to it koala style to show just _how_ good he was as thrusting. As if Louis didn’t know. As if Louis hadn’t been fucked to within an inch of his life by Harry’s _incredible_ dick. As if he hadn’t watched his _incredible_ thighs flex, whether it was straddling him in bed or playing tennis or just play-fighting with Louis and pushing him away with his feet. The fact that Louis cited such insignificant events as sexually stimulating was worrying to say the least.

Louis was a gone man, that much was completely certain.

 _#Pour some sugar on me_ _Ooh, in the name of love_ _Pour some sugar on me_ _C'mon, fire me up_ _Pour your sugar on me_ _I can't get enough_

 _I'm hot, sticky sweet_ _From my head to my feet, yeah#_

Harry was sweating hard, hair damp and skin deepening in colour. Louis could bet it was thrillingly hot to touch...to press his lips against. Would his pulse jump under the touch? Or was Harry immune to the sensation by now?

Louis wanted to answer the question in person. Wanted to separate Harry from that damn pole and teach him a thing or two about _teasing_ him.

Harry pointed at him for the next verse.

 _#You got the peach, I got the cream_ _Sweet to taste, saccharine_ _'Cause I'm hot, say what, sticky sweet_ _From my head, my head, to my feet_

_Do you take sugar? One lump or two?_

_Take a bottle, shake it up_ _Break the bubble, break it up (Break it up) #_

Launching to his feet to dash across the stage, Harry quickly returned with two opened bottles of water. He shook them in sync with the song, sucking a mouthful from one whilst upturning the other and then both streams of liquid were coursing down over his naked skin and Louis' dick twitched in his pants; his attraction now evident enough that he had to do something about it.

 _#Pour some sugar on me_ _Ooh, in the name of love_ _Pour some sugar on me_ _C'mon fire me up_ _Pour your sugar on me_ _Oh, I can't get enough#_

Louis shot out of his seat as Harry dropped to his knees and blew a huge cloud of water into the air, his underwear tight around his nicely shaped dick and balls; his thighs thick and straining from his kneeling position.

There was barely any song left to dance through so Louis quickened to the stage stairs to make his way up.

 _#Pour some sugar on me_ _Oh, in the name of love_ _Pour some sugar on me_ _Get it, come get it_ _Pour your sugar on me_ _Pour some sugar on me_ _Yeah! Sugar me!#_

Harry shook out his hair, fingers clenching into the soaked strands as his lungs struggled for air, sticky wet skin heaving under the strain.

He looked up, squinting into the seating area where Louis had been sat, brows furrowing as his smaller partner was no longer visible, but goosebumps hit his skin as Louis stalked towards him from the back of the stage.

He looked up, face brightening with a naturally goofy smile, Louis lowering to his knees to frame his face and kiss him once he'd managed to catch enough breath to kiss back.

“Louis...”

“Fuck, you’re incredible, Harry,” Louis murmured, eyes holding his for an intense moment before he began kissing Harry’s mouth again, Harry giving into the demand easily; wrapping Louis tight in his arms.

“Happy One year, Louis" Harry shifted a bit on his knees.

“I’ve got something sticky for you, but it isn’t sweet,” Louis warned.

Harry threw his head back to guffaw, tempering to a giggle with bright eyes.

“Give it to me anyway,” He invited.

“I’ve been wanting to _give it to you_ since you walked down that stage, babe...”

Harry smirked.

“Since this _is_ a rodeo and I’m here to _ride the bull_...”

Louis’ lips twitched.

“I’m the bull?” He asked.

Harry banded him tightly against his chest as he kissed him again, slower, flicking his tongue gently and sucking at his lips.

“Wanna ride you _on_ the bull,” Harry murmured.

Louis jerked his chin up.

“You—?”

Harry swallowed, gaze keeping Louis’ captured.

“Is that weird?” He lifted a brow, biting his lip.

“No weirder than seeing you in my work clothes,” Louis mused.

“You wear these?” A look of incredulity crossed Harry’s face.

“No, you idiot, the other guys wear them,” he rolled his eyes.

“Right,” Harry’s lip was pinned again by his teeth. “Well, it was either this or just show up in your hoodie and nothing else...”

“Don’t tell me, I don’t have any left?” Louis quipped. “Because you already took them all...”

“I might be replenishing your supply before long,” Harry smiled smugly to himself.

“So, you thought you’d dress up as some hot cowboy instead?” Louis accused lightly.

“You think I’m hot?” Harry slipped his hands into the dip of Louis' back and let his thumbs work into his sides.

“You know you’re hot, babe, especially when you bite your lip like that, fuck, what _are_ you doing to me..?”

Harry's lip was released and pulled into a wry smile.

“Can we get back to it, ‘cause this cowboy is really eager for a ride...”

“You’re such a cheese-ball...” Louis groaned, breaking free of Harry’s hold to stand up.

“I happen to think I’m marvellous...”

“You're wrong,” Louis countered, helping Harry to stand, too.

“Your dick says you’re a liar,” Harry smiled,  staring at the bulge Louis was trying to ignore. “Your dick thinks I’m marvellous, too.”

“Yeah well, that was when you were fucking a pole and drenching yourself in water not—”

Harry shut him up with a one-armed hug to haul him close and kiss him quiet. The journey across the room to the mechanical bull was peppered with similar long kisses.

“You might want to lose the boots before you fuck up your ankle again, Styles...” Louis warned as Harry tried to wade through the soft foam landing bricks in the pit under the bull.

Harry giggled as he pitched sideways, landing in a flailing heap among the foam.

“Watch yourself, stud, we don’t want another hospital trip...” Louis struggled into the pit to rescue him.

“Help!” Harry appealed endearingly; pretending to swim among the small blocks of bouncy material.

“Come on, cowboy,” Louis hauled him up. “You sure you want to get up there?” He eyed the bull warily.

“Yep,” Harry grinned, playfully slapping Louis' behind before he shifted to wedge his foot on one of the steps to straddle the bull.

“What—”

“Yee-ha!” Harry whooped, commandeering the lifeless Bronco.

“You haven’t conquered _me_ yet,” Louis muttered. “Nothing to Ha or Yee about...”

“C'mon Louis, this is fun!” Harry began to fake a lasso motion with his arm.

“It’s all fun and games until somebody gets—”

“Oh, fuck!” Harry’s gasp preceded his wobble, his very naked, oily body sliding right off the stationary bull and crashing into the pit.

“Babe, can I just fuck you over the bar instead?” Louis suggested as he collected Harry up carefully.

He pouted; eyes wide for effect.

“I want to _ride_ you...”

Louis lifted a brow; the solid slug of his already hot blood quickening at the thought.

“Let’s use The Snug,” Louis suggested.

Harry’s smile told him all he needed to know.

 

//

“What's The Snug?” Harry asked as Louis led him upwards, towards the roof.

They had already passed the upper floor of the club where a decent staffroom was situated along with empty dressing rooms for the performers.

“Where are you taking me, Lou?” He added as they clambered up a wooden ladder to get to their destination.

Louis had sent Harry up first and he felt suddenly as naked as he _was._ It would be just like Louis to lock him up there on their anniversary; on the roof in his briefs for the entire world to see.

“Have a look for yourself,” Louis told him as Harry got upright, Louis' arms sliding around his waist from behind. Harry let himself sag against Louis' body and gently gripped his arms.

“It’s a snug,” Harry stated, blinking at the low couches and bean bags.

“That’s what I said, Jersey.”

Harry dimpled.

“Thought you might have been...you know...”

“Lying?” Louis offered with a tut. “When have I ever lied to you, Harry Edward Styles?”

Harry twisted in his arms, curling his around Louis' shoulders.

“What about the time you got me up to dance on the bar and said everything would be fine?”

“Actually, I said our insurance couldn’t afford you,” he sassed.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, that might be true, but-"

Louis' mouth covering his quietened him; a weakened noise scratching his throat. The room felt warm, near the insulation of the rafters. Louis felt warm, too, small and bright in his arms.

“You got stuff?” Harry arched a brow.

Louis swallowed and nodded. Harry watched him pat his jeans pocket.

“’Bout time you got them jeans off don't you think, stud?” He winked, stepping away to rid himself of his briefs boldly. His tummy muscles flexed, hips denting pretty. When he turned to saunter towards the sofas, his arse cheeks tensed teasingly. “See somethin' you like?” He propped his chin on his shoulder to pout his lips seductively, lashes sweeping femininely over his eyes.

The Texan accent was back and so was Louis’ hard-on apparently.

“Think you deserve the crop,” Louis murmured, tugging on Harry's neckerchief as he strode over.

Harry paused to look him in the eye.

“Hmm,” he licked his lips, body swaying slightly.

Louis leaned up to kiss him again, cupping the back of his neck and his ass-cheek, slapping him lightly with a smirk. He began to pull his t-shirt off.

“I was hoping for a shower before we did this,” Louis winced.

“I like a sweaty man.”

“Apparently you do,” Louis mused.

Harry’s eyes flashed. He began to stroke his semi-hard dick.

“I like a sassy man, too...”

“You like a lot of men...”

“Just one actually,” his grin was slow and lopsided. Louis' favourite.

Louis unfastened his jeans, Harry stepping closer to commandeer that particular job.

“Is that right, cowboy?”

“Mmhmm...”

“Think I’m a one-man kinda guy too, you know?”

“Interesting...” Harry was lowering himself to his knees as he spoke, tugging Louis’ jeans off.

“H-how interesting?” Louis cleared his throat as Harry pressed his lips against his re-hardened dick, over his boxers.

“Pretty fascinating, to be honest,” Harry enunciated his words carefully, voice deep .

“Well don’t let me stop you from investigating your curiosity,” Louis breathed.

“I won’t,” Harry assured; ridding Louis’ shorts and licking him boldly.

“Jesus…”

“Don’t you mean Jersey?” Harry mumbled; taking Louis back onto his tongue to suck at him.

“Pretty sure this is a near-death experience, actually;” Louis reached out to grip something and found anchor on the back of the sofa.

“Hmmm,” Harry hummed; hollowing his cheeks and slowly bobbing his head to tease Louis’ arousal.

After a year together, it should feel less exciting; it should feel like routine; like a remembered pleasure that they shared over and over. But something about Harry’s surprise- the way he had controlled his body on the pole and had played the part of one of the cowboys so convincingly, had Louis feeling like this was his first blowjob from Harry all over again.

He could remember it; the morning they’d woken after their first proper date and Harry had fucked him with his mouth before Louis returned the favour and after that they liked to do it mutually; sixty-nine being one of their favourite positions.

Tonight was special for so many reasons and Louis just wanted to show Harry how much of that was because of _him_ and how he’d made Louis feel in the months they’d struggled to establish their relationship in the public eye.

“C-can we just get to the fucking part?” Louis gasped as Harry curled his tongue around him and pushed Louis’ heat against the fleshy inner side of his cheek.

“Are you trying to say my blow-jobs are shit, Tomlinson?” Harry pulled away to frown at him fiercely.

“Quite the opposite, babe. Not sure I’m going to last if I’m honest…”

Harry smirked and went right back to his oral pleasure; fingers teasing between Louis’ cheeks as he licked along Louis’ vein.

“Harry, you—” Louis bit his lip; a helpless moan sounding in his throat as he lost balance slightly; his free hand threading through Harry’s hair. His hips pulsed before he could temper his urge to do just that.

“Fuck, yeah,” Harry nodded; a bit breathless and messy.

Louis cupped his jaw; thumbed at his cheek.

“Easy, Jersey.”

Harry parted his lips and let Louis slide back into his mouth; setting a slow rhythm to fuck him with. Harry circled the base of his own dick with his hand giving a hard squeeze and making little noises of pleasure that vibrated against Louis’ shaft as he took him deep in his mouth. Louis thumbed at his cheek again to feel himself; grinning smugly when the skin flushed darkly; his thick heat evident against Harry’s pale skin where his cheek bulged with his shape.

“Babe, if you want to sit on my dick we really need to move,” Louis warned; squeezing his eyes shut and gasping in air. The visual was all too much.

Harry got up and guided Louis around the furniture, pushing him backwards onto the sofa before straddling across his lap before he could even ask.

“Ready for my pony ride,” Harry smirked.

Louis knocked his head back with a groan.

“Don’t you _dare_ get that song in my head, you little shit...”

Soft, like a low humming, Louis heard the lyrics mumbled from Harry’s lips as he kept his eyes shut, hands bracing his thick thighs.

“# _If you're horny, let's do it_ _Ride it, my pony_ _My saddle's waiting_ _Come and jump on it_...C'mon Louis, sing along...”

Harry looked far too smug when Louis flicked his eyes open.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers just for that,” Louis decided, reaching to pluck up the lube they’d tossed into the spare seat.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, not taking the threat seriously which turned out to be the wrong thing to do because a short while later his arms were tightly folded around Louis' shoulders as he begged weakly for his release.

Louis granted it with a twist and swoop of his fingers; Harry stroking himself off as his orgasm burst through his skin and spattered over Louis stickily.

Louis lifted his brows.

“Aren’t you going to clean that up?”

“No,” Harry managed to shift himself with a concentrated furrow of his brows; lifting up and grasping Louis' shaft to steady himself.

“Hey, do you want a moment to-"

Louis quickly squeezed his sides as Harry sank down; a bit heavy and tired.

“No,” Harry said again, swallowing thickly.

“You forgot the condom.” Louis frowned.

“Good job we're both clean then, hmm?” Harry leaned in to kiss him, lifting up and sinking back down with Louis' support this time. “Love how your arms look,” he brushed a thumb over one of Louis' biceps.

“Hold tight, babe,” Louis told him, sucking a kiss at the hollow of his throat.

“Want you to come inside me, Lou,” Harry mumbled, opening his hazy green eyes. “It’s your present, yeah?”

Louis took a sharp breath of understanding; Harry’s plan far more overt than his own. He cupped his jaw and kissed him again, harder and sweeter after.

“I’m going to admit my plan for tonight was shit,” he murmured. “But I’m going to think of something stunning and make up for it, yeah?”

Harry’s lips fell open as he sank down, eyes rolling backwards and closing with a whimper. Louis wanted to lay him down and fuck him hard, but this wasn’t that kind of moment. It was intimate and messy and perfect for their anniversary.

“What did-um...what did you have planned?”

“It’s doesn’t matter,” Louis whispered, dipping to flick his tongue over Harry’s nipple.

“Tell me, babe,” Harry breathed, tummy flexing with his lift; thigh muscles sleek and firm. “Mmm...”

Louis locked into another tonguing kiss; hot in the way that his soul felt on fire as it caught flame from Harry’s.

“It was just...Was going to cook you dinner,” Louis hid his cheek in the crook of Harry's neck and licked his collarbone. “Got you some nice flowers, too...”

Harry choked out a laugh; settling back with Louis pulsing within him as he clenched around him gently.

“That’s perfect,” he promised with a gritty voice, gazing into Louis' eyes before drawing him into a kiss, one arm around his shoulders one cupping his jaw.

“I made dessert,” Louis whispered into his ear. “Was going to feed it to you after...well...my _other_ dessert...”

Harry’s breath hitched, his back arching as he gasped in air.

“Oh?”

“Well we both know how you love your cowboy kink,” Louis mused, banding his arms tightly around Harry’s waist so that they were pressed right together, Louis deep in Harry and Harry pleasurably full of him.

“Yessir,” he winked.

Louis tilted his hips to fuck into him.

“I might have bought you a little _something_ ,” Louis managed to say before Harry's lips crashed upon his, hard.

“What-" He panted, fucking himself as Louis tilted up to meet his rhythm. “What did you get me?”

“Don’t you want to keep it a surprise, Curly?” Louis gently pushed Harry’s wilting fringe from his face.

“Fuck, no I don’t,” he leaned back, grabbing Louis' biceps in his frenzy. Louis began to stroke his hard dick slowly, earning Harry’s intense gaze on his.

“Might have got you a nice soft suede whip, for starters,” Louis teased, fist tightening as Harry’s breaths became sharper and his body began to quiver with pleasure.

“Louis...” He breathed, thumbs digging into his arms now. Louis loved the feeling of being Harry’s anchor in the swirl of his passion.

Louis kissed his lips, a slow hard suck and a flick of his tongue.

“You like those harnesses, too don’t you?” His voice rasped as Harry made a soft noise.

“The-The chest ones?” He asked, voice hopeful.

Louis knew why he sounded that way, breathless and agitated; despite being close to his peak. Harry had seen Shawn putting on a studded chest harness and had quietly asked Louis if he could try one on _later._

Louis had taken four months to pick out exactly the right item and it was lovingly boxed up on his bed awaiting Harry’s attention.

“Found a full body one, babe,” Louis told him, thrusting roughly.

Harry’s dick twitched in his tight fist and he came again in a weak dribble but his cry of pleasure was enough to have Louis releasing into him; hands grasping Harry’s ass to support him, clawing open his cheeks to feel himself there; with his sticky residue sliding out.

“Filthy,” Louis whispered, coaxing a tired Harry into a soft kiss. “Happy Anniversary, H.”

Harry hung himself from Louis' shoulders and refused to let go.

“Louis?”

“Yes, babe?” Louis cuddled him and stroked the back of his head.

“Love you.”

Louis smiled. Harry always made sure to say it frequently since the first time he’d admitted his feelings. It wasn’t that Louis was far behind in how he felt or afraid to tell Harry; but it felt important to wait until _Harry_ was ready to say it first.

“I love you too,” he replied, the words far more standard than their meaning. “Love you so much.”

“Love _you_ so much,” Harry shifted to settle in his arms.

“Babe, I think you’ll find it’s me that loves you more,” Louis smiled.

“Not possible,” Harry rested his cheek on Louis’ shoulder.

“Think it is, actually...”

“Well you can’t _prove_ it,” Harry pulled away to pout at him unfairly.

“I mean...I put up with your singing,” Louis mocked. “That’s a pretty fucking big deal breaker right there...”

Harry's pout dried up.

“Well, what about your morning moods?” He accused.

“I’m nothing but a Sunny Jim,” Louis lied.

Harry snorted.

“You’re a _shit_ ,” he spat. “I have to hand make pancakes just to get you to stop muttering under your breath most days...”

“That’s a lie!” Louis argued.

“Waffles, then,” Harry rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's ever-increasing demands. “I even missed my flight to Mexico because you wouldn’t hug me goodbye before you’d had coffee...”

“Tea, actually. Are you sure you know _anything_ about me?” Louis checked.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not going to win, Louis.”

“I love you more,” Louis shrugged. “Not sure why you're so hostile...”

“You leave the plughole clogged up!” Harry complained.

“You hug everyone you meet,” Louis countered.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, the _one_ time I went to hug my old mate Stan you sulked for two days...”

“Didn’t know you had a friend called Stan,” Harry mumbled.

“Ah, so, my “morning moods" as you put it, have _no_ relation to the amount of showbiz flirting you do....”

Harry opened his mouth, taking a breath to counter Louis' argument, pausing when Louis lifted his brows. He snapped his mouth shut.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Louis murmured. “So. I love you more.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Do not,” he muttered quietly, shifting from his position, still in Louis' lap.

When they'd carefully made their way back down the stairs to the shower rooms with Louis' clothing, they cuddled together under the onslaught of water.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” Louis kissed his chest. “Of course you love me more, I _am_ a little shit...”

Harry squeezed him.

“No, you’re right. It’s you. You love me so much, Lou.”

“Can we call a truce?” Louis propped his chin where he’d just kissed Harry’s skin to look up.

Harry tucked his chin in to cross his eyes amusedly.

“Love you,” Harry said, kissing him softly.

“Love you,” Louis said back.

 

//

 

 **“** **Did it hurt when you fell?” “** **You could say that, and I bruise like a peach!”**

Intrigued? So were we! We won’t keep you waiting in suspense. Just read on!

In a one-off candid interview, the triple threat rock-star/actor/model Harry Styles, opens up to _Attitude_ about his heart, and his home, and we were lucky enough to have a front row seat! Here Harry chats about sexuality, love and good ole rock ‘n’ roll!

We were definitely as happy as Larry when Styles ‘came out’ last month, after hanging out of the proverbial closet for a number of years. If you’re still trying to get over the shock of it all, we don’t know which rock you have been hiding under!

Harry had always been one to shy away from speaking about his sexuality, previously stating “I’ve never felt the need to define that part of myself”. 

We were one hundred percent in agreement with that statement at the time, so what has changed and why now?

Just in case you were on another planet and missed it last year, Harry made his MET Gala debut as the youngest ever co-chair, and we would be lying if we said we were over THAT iconic houtfit™. You might recall Harry and his stylist, another Harry (Lambert) sharing with the press that Styles pierced his own ear with a needle just a few days before the event and that particular misjudgement ended up with a remark from the young entertainer later that he “made a huge mistake” and that he regretted it and wouldn’t be repeating it.

It felt like the entire Harry Styles fandom (and perhaps the whole world) were in complete uproar over the decision not to put Styles on the cover of the iconic fashion bible; Vogue magazine, in relation to his hosting debut.

Whilst we are not Vogue (far from it, to be quite honest!) we can happily state that we recognise Harry is more than deserving of a front cover. He came to us with the concept for the photography for our shoot with him and considering the theme for this year’s Met Gala is **Tokyo : Cherry Bomb** ; we couldn’t help but wonder if he was throwing just a smidge of shade at his critics. Of course, Harry remained impeccably polite and wouldn’t be drawn on discussing the _Vogue_ snub, but he did flash us that infamous smirk when we asked about his inspiration behind this month’s cover. _Hmm, guess we’ll just have to stop our crying, accept it’s none of our business, no matter how much we’re kinda into it, and leave that topic of conversation there._

Besides, we are still crying into our Kleenex over the fact that Harry decided to step down as co-chair this year (we checked; he _was_ asked) and has chosen to simply grace the red carpet instead. But we do have it on very good authority from the man himself that he will not be walking the red carpet alone…

 **Attitude: So, Harry. The theme this year is inspired by a place you seem to enjoy spending time ( _Harry has been spotted in Tokyo several times)_ and we** **’** **re still getting over your iconic debut from last** **year. Can you tell us anything about your outfit?**

Harry: I’m afraid my lips are firmly sealed, but I can assure you that I’m very excited.

 **Attitude: And we understand you** **’** **re not the only excited one?**

Harry: Oh, that was clever, I have to hand it to you. I see what you did there. To answer your question, that would be correct!

**Attitude: We can see that signature Styles smirk.**

Harry: Is that so?

**Attitude: Do you want to come out with it or shall we?**

Harry: I mean I’m already out, but, go ahead.

 **Attitude: Oh, you** **’** **re such a smooth criminal Styles. So, how does your boyfriend feel about that? Oh! The dimples have surfaced. People, this is not a drill!**

Harry: God you’re terrible. My boyfriend...sorry but he’s in the next room so just prepare for the possible onslaught of banter, yeah? My boyfriend has been amazingly supportive throughout the entire process, and even though that process was already in the works when we met, I honestly couldn’t have done it without him. It was an extremely freeing yet...I wouldn’t necessarily say scary, but anxiety-inducing? I guess that’s probably the best way to sum it up.

**Attitude: What was it that made you the most anxious?**

Harry: I was anxious about the reaction, but I was very ready to move forward to get that reaction, whatever it was going to be. I felt it was the right time to do it, especially as I’d already pushed the boundaries as far as I could take them. I didn’t want it to be this massive thing, but at the same time I had to realise that...well it was going to be, regardless.

**Attitude: And how did you approach the process?**

Harry: My manager Jeff and the rest of my team were fucking amazing and they coached me through it. We came to a collective decision on how we wanted to do it, but they always stressed to me that the final decision would be mine, and mine alone. James (Corden) is a great friend, and I knew I wanted it to be him. I knew I wanted an interview with a fly-away comment that could be left hanging, I guess? We knew the media would create a storm; one I felt we were prepared for, but when it did blow up I realised I wasn’t entirely prepared for it at all.

**Attitude: How did you cope with the frenzy?**

Harry: My boyfriend kept me grounded, kept me away from social media for a while. In fact, we had a small getaway and went to stay with my family and just left it all behind until it calmed down slightly, you know? As you’re probably aware, my team announced I’d be making a statement. I have so much respect for anyone in this industry who has ever had to come out, and I am in awe of their decisions and how they choose to do it. I knew I wanted it to be simple and to the point, so I sent out the tweet and posted on my Instagram, and then my family and friends were given the go ahead to respond whichever way they chose to.

**Attitude: We can safely say, _we_ were very much in awe of _your_ decision, and we can’t imagine how that must have felt. We would like to clarify a small point, if you’re happy for us to do so? **

Harry: Yeah, please, go ahead.

**Attitude: Beforehand, you’d always been so passionate about not defining or labelling yourself, and we know you dip in and out of social media. What changed? We understand your ‘coming out’ was already in the works but we are curious as to whether perhaps your boyfriend had a little something to do with the timing at least?**

Harry: Wow...okay…digging a bit there, huh? But because you’re so lovely I’ll let it slide. ( _Harry smiles_ )

**Attitude: An interviewer has to try! Apologies if that overstepped the line.**

Harry: I’m just messing with you. I appreciate your questions and to be honest, it’s really fucking nice to be able to answer them. That’s what I wanted to get out of this interview so, um...just...bear with me, yeah?

**Attitude: Of course, Harry. You just take your time.**

_(At this point Harry’s boyfriend makes his presence known. We know you’ve only seen glimpses of him via Harry’s Instagram, but we can honestly say you’re in for a treat when he’s finally revealed. We can reassure you that the affection between these two is second to none. Harry is happy to continue the interview after a small time out and a nice cuddle from his boyfriend, who has also brought Harry a lovely cup of chamomile tea. Our hearts are flailing in our chests_ _.)_

Harry: Okay, as you can see, we now have a special guest.

**Attitude: We do, and we’re very happy to have him. Lovely to meet you, Louis.**

Louis: You too, love. Thanks for doing this for my boy. He’s been thinking about this for a while, so it feels surreal; but it’s really nice that it’s finally happening.

**Attitude: It truly is an honour, and we’re over the moon Harry picked us. (We’re actually really bloody smug about it, but hey!)**

Louis: I like this one, babe.

Harry: I do too.

 **Attitude: We can’t handle this kind of praise! Are you happy to continue now, Harry?**

Harry: I am now, yeah. Sorry, where were we?

**Attitude: We asked if it was Louis who changed your mind about coming out and also; we are generally intrigued about what changed? We know you were always quite passionate about never defining yourself or labelling yourself.**

Harry: That’s right, wow, _yeah_. ( _Harry takes a deep breath_ ) Right...yeah so, regarding Lou…

( _Attitude may have squealed internally at the nickname, but we cannot confirm or deny this_ )

Harry: Yes, and no. When you’re in this industry it’s very easy to lose sight of who you are anyway; so, imagine that feeling on top of not being able to BE who you are? As I said before, I’d discussed the issue with my manager several times, but it’s not as cut and dry as some people think. I’m still not really allowed to go into the exact details but-

Louis: I will. His old manager was a prize dickhead

Harry: Yeah. Cheers for that, babe.

( _Still not squealing...)_

Harry: So yeah, moving on, let’s just say there were some reigns that needed loosening contractually, and I was fortunate enough that my new management had the means to not just loosen those reigns, but to get rid of them altogether.

**Attitude: Wow, that must’ve been really something.**

Harry: It really was, but it just shouldn’t be that way. Like, no one should ever have to be chained up in the first place. Shit happens in this industry and...Yeah, so... Once I was ‘free’ it just felt like it was time, you know? I guess dating Lou gave me even more motivation, because he’s too fucking good to hide, and I never wanted to hide him or what we had. At the same time, I’m a pretty private person and it’s nice to have things for myself too, you know?

 **Attitude: We get you Harry. One hundred percent**.

Harry: Thanks. I feel I need to make it clear that Louis never once pressured me to come out. What we had was ours and we enjoyed that and if anything; it was exciting having these like, secret little rendezvous.

 **Attitude: Oo-la-la! He** **’** **s blushing!**

Harry: Yeah so, umm, whereas that was like, fun and kinda sexy...

Louis: Fucking hell, Jersey...

Harry: What? It was! I kind of loved the thrill of having you all to myself, or even like, being caught...

Louis: Jesus...

Harry: Thought it was Jersey? ( _Harry winks at Louis_ )

 **Attitude: We freely admit we are lost in this conversation** **, but we are very much enjoying the banter you pre-warned us about earlier and to be honest, we’re very much swooning.**

 _(To set the scene for all you lucky readers. Louis has now settled quite comfortably in Harry_ _’_ _s lap, and we feel we_ _’_ _re missing out on an inside joke, as Harry is now wearing a pink cowboy hat on his head...)_

Harry: ( _Once Louis has finished doting on him)_ Where was I? Oh! Yeah, so, I just didn’t wanna hide anymore, you know? When you fall hard like that...

Louis: Oh, now we’re talking!

Harry: Oi! Be quiet! Okay, so when you feel that way, you just wanna like, _shit_ this is gonna sound so cliché but, you just wanna shout it from the rooftops, right?

 **Attitude: We love a good clich** **é** **here at Attitude**

Harry: Yeah, so, I just…I realised I couldn’t do that, and I wanted to. I wanted to be able to do that and I just wanted people to know who I am. Who I _truly_ am. I can still afford to hold pieces of me back, yeah? Those pieces I can keep for myself, or my family and friends or-

Louis: Me!

Harry: Or my very annoying boyfriend!

**Attitude: It sounds like it was very important to you; to reflect your true self to your fans and the rest of the world.**

Harry: My sexuality was always a huge deal to everyone else, but not to _me_. I don’t know if that makes sense? ( _Attitude nods_ ) But...I’ve always been comfortable with my sexuality, so I never felt the need to define it. I know I’m kinda repeating myself here but, okay so...The thing is, when you’re part of this industry, sometimes you don’t get a choice to be yourself, right? You have to be what _they_ want you to be. They put you in this box, they decide on what you’re gonna wear, even how you’re gonna style your hair, sometimes even how you’re gonna act and walk and shit. It’s...it can get pretty fucked up; I’m not going to sugar-coat it.

**Attitude: Can you elaborate on your experiences?**

Harry: Without going into exact details, going over what I said earlier, shit happens, right? Shit happens and you get thrown into the closet, when…when you don’t _want_ to be, you know? And you can choose to like, fight against it; to rebel, and believe me I tried but...but you just end up exhausting yourself. So, you can choose to succumb, or you can choose to remain like...ambiguous. And that’s what I did. I never wanted to lie, but there were consequences if I didn’t, so I tried to find a middle ground like using non-gender terms when I was asked about ‘girls’, and showing my support to the LGBT+ community and dropping the odd hint in interviews...

_(Harry smirks and Attitude smiles back in acknowledgement.)_

Harry: After a while that gets exhausting too and when I realised I could finally just truly be me without stripping myself totally bare, I took it. I took it and…

( _Harry pauses and looks to Louis who smiles encouragingly_ )

I think I might have glossed over it a little bit before, but it was fucking scary. I’m—I’m proud of myself for finally just busting that closet door right down, yeah? It took a while to get used to the extra attention and the onslaught of the media, but when I stepped back from that and just embraced being with my family, my friends and my guy…it kind of felt different. It felt nice.

Louis: I remember he said to me, even among all the shit flying at him; ‘ _Today was a good day’_. I’ll always remember him saying that.

 _(Harry turns to Louis, and they’re both the definition of actual heart eyes. We even noticed Louis giving Harry’s ring cladded hand a supportive squeeze_.)

Harry: That got kinda heavy there for a minute didn’t it? Sorry...

**Attitude: We can assure you there’s no need to apologise, but we can see that Louis is quite emotional. Are you okay Louis?**

Louis: Yeah. Yeah it just...It brought a lot back you know? We both had some tough times. We’ve had to really fight for our relationship. You okay for me to continue, babe?

Harry: Of course.

Louis: Okay, so I don’t think Harry will mind me saying this. I wouldn’t say we’ve ever been against each other to an extreme point, but we’re only human, yeah? There have been misunderstandings, and miscommunication on both sides. Sometimes everything has gotten too much, for the both of us; sometimes separately and sometimes at the same time. When you throw in the long distance, it can be a lot you know? The thing is, when you have something _this_ good, all the fighting, good and bad, it’s really fucking worth it, and not even...certain people who will remain anonymous can break that.

_(Harry drops the sweetest peck on Louis’ lips right in front of us, and we feel guilty for witnessing such an intimate moment between them, yet very grateful all the same.)_

Harry: He’s fucking amazing and I can honestly say I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

 **Attitude: We couldn’t be happier for you Harry. It’s what you deserve. We think you** **’** **re extremely brave choosing to talk with us so candidly today, and we know that by doing so you’re going to continue to help so many others by taking such a big step** **.**

Harry: Thank you very much. I really appreciate that.

**Attitude: Have you considered endorsing any charities that support people like yourself- people who may be scared to reveal their true selves?**

Harry: Yeah. Definitely. That’s...that’s something I’ve always tried to do anyway but, I didn’t always have the ability or means to be present at events and stuff, right? So, going forward, that’s an area I really want to expand and look into. There are so many fundraisers I want to get involved in, and now I’m out, I know I’ll be able to do so. If I have this platform to help raise awareness and give some kind of support back to the fans that have flawlessly and effortlessly supported me throughout the years, I’m going to use that you know? That’s always been so important to me, especially when I’m on stage. My fans are fucking incredible. They’ll bring their flags and banners and whenever I get to wave those pride flags and flags on stage that represent certain sexualities, or just the LGBT+ community in anyway, that’s a euphoric feeling for me. I went off on a bit of a tangent there but I don’t want to act like just because I’m out, I’m going to be the one to turn things around but I can certainly try to do my bit. I just…Can I say something, to anyone reading this? Is that—will that be okay?

**Attitude: Absolutely..**

Harry: I just...I just want you to know that you’re always valid, you’re always special and you’re always deserving, whoever you are, whoever you strive to be. Just believe in yourself, okay? Know that you’re not alone, and _fuck_ , I know you probably _will_ feel that way at times, but you’re _not_ alone and however you identify, that’s intimate yeah? That’s something that you don’t have to share with anyone if you don’t feel like it. But if you feel like sharing it, do it for you, do it because you want to; not because you feel like you have to.

**Attitude: That’s a very important message to get out, Harry. Not everyone has the same level of freedom.**

Harry: I guess my circumstances are quite different and things personal to me pushed me to make the decisions that I did, but I didn’t do it for anyone but myself, and I know that could maybe sound selfish to some, but sometimes you have to be selfish to survive. That was something I needed to do for myself.  I wanted to do that a long fucking time ago and just because I did it, that doesn’t mean _you_ have to do it too. I’m just sending you so much love, and it doesn’t matter who you are or however you identify. Just…just do you, right?

 **Attitude: Thank you, Harry. You once said how your good friend Stevie Nicks was always so** **‘** **unapologetically herself** **’** **. Well Harry, we couldn** **’** **t** **find truer words for you.**

Harry: You’re very kind. Thank you, truly.

 **Attitude:** **You’re truly welcome Harry. We’re gonna ease up on you now and move on to the snazzy stuff…**

Harry: How fun.

 **Attitude:** **So,** **through it all, did either of you feel that you** **’** **d end up here? A week away from walking the red-carpet hand in hand at one of fashion** **’** **s and let** **’** **s face it, the world** **’** **s, most talked about events?**

Harry: Lou? You wanna answer this one, or shall I?

Louis: Actually, is it alright if I say something?

Harry: Go for it.

Louis: I think I can speak for Harry when I say that whereas we always knew there was something between us, we both took a risk in exploring that something and yeah, only in my wildest dreams could I have thought we’d end up here. Like, pinch me yeah? Ow! Fuck, Harry why did you do that?

Harry: I mean you witnessed that. He asked for it. He’s also the biggest sap, it seems.

Louis: Yeah and we can establish he’s a little shit!

Harry: Heeeeeey! Rude.

Louis: Says the curly guy who pinched me.

**Attitude: We can assure our readers that there is nothing but love between these two. So! Behave you two! Now that the heavy stuff is out of the way, we are dying to know, how did you two meet?!**

Louis: Let’s just say, he proper fell for me.

**Attitude: And Harry, did it hurt when you fell?**

Harry: You could say that! And I bruise like a peach.

 **Attitude: I don** **’** **t think we're going to get a proper answer here, so, moving forward... We can see why you** **’** **ve kept Louis under wraps, why are you choosing the Met Gala as your couple debut?**

Harry: Well we discussed a few times how we were going to come out publicly as a couple. I know I’ve posted some brief stuff on Instagram here and there...

 ( _Check Harry’s Instagram @harrystyles if you’ve been missing out!_ )

Harry: We were talking one night, and I made a joke and suggested the Met should be our debut.

Louis: The Met _last_ year was supposed to be our first date...

**Attitude: Now _that_ sounds intriguing...**

Harry: ( _Rolls his eyes and murmurs a soft chastisement to Louis_ ) Yeah umm, things didn’t go exactly according to plan. It was kind of last minute because I was kinda caught up in the moment...you’ve seen him, right? I mean... _look_ at him?!

**Attitude: We can safely say that Louis is extremely easy on the eyes.**

Harry: As I was saying...

Louis: Oh Jersey, I can smell your jealousy from here.

Harry: You’re literally sitting in my lap...

Louis: Details. You didn’t deny it...

Harry: Piss off

Louis: Nah, don’t think I will...

Harry: See what I have to put up with? Louis no! You know I’m ticklish! ( _The interview segues into a tickle war at this point_ )

 _Much Later_ ...

 **Attitude: We** **ll we definitely understand what Harry meant about the ‘onslaught of banter’.  You two make an adorable couple but before we wrap this up, we’re going to try one last time; especially as Louis is now present. Can either...emphasis on the _either_ , of you, tell us anything about your Met Gala looks?**

Harry: Oh, you’re a sneaky lot aren’t you? All I’ll say is that we’ve collaborated, so we’ll complement one another, and, it’s going to be pretty sick!

Louis: What Jersey said!

 **Attitude: We** **’** **re guessing we** **’** **d be pushing it if we asked about _that_** **particular nickname?**

Harry: In the politest way possible, you would indeed.

Louis: How rude. What happened to ‘Treat People With Kindness’?! Ow! You little shit!

Harry: He deserved it. Can you edit that bit out?

 **Attitude: We can, but we won** **’** **t. We feel our readers would want to know how you just pounced on your boyfriend and gave him a love bite.**

Harry: Oh, you play dirty!

Attitude: Clearly not as dirty as you, Styles!

Harry: Touché

 **Attitude: And on that note...Harry, and our surprise guest Louis, thank you so much for allowing us into your home, and just a little bit into your hearts. ( _See what we did there?_** **) We** **’** **ll be expecting our wedding invitation in the post sometime in the near future and we can** **’** **t wait to see you on that red carpet!**

Harry: Cheeky! Thank you, and thank you again for chatting to me, well, _us_ , and thank you for allowing me to grace your cover, it was an absolute honour!

Louis: You half talk some shit don’t you?

Harry: Heeeeeey!

 **Attitude: The honour was all ours** **_._ **

_(Harry’_ _s famous dimples appear shortly before Louis pokes him in the ribs)_

 **Please stay unapologetically yourself. Here at Attitude, we have one thing left to say:** **“** **You Harry Styles** **’** **d that shit so hard!** **”**

 

END

Hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as we did writing it.

Tumblr post here: [here](https://rainbowglitterboots.tumblr.com/post/184875394021/well-hel-lo-stallion-umive-not-been-here)

Eles & Ang xxx


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